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ALMA  MATER 

Photogravure  of  the  Statue  by  Daniel  0.  French 

Tlie  colossal  ligiire  of  Freiicli's  Alma  Mater  adorns  ilie  fine  suite  of  stone  steps 
leading  up  to  tlie  picturesque  library  building  of  Cohnnbia  University.  It  is  a 
bronze  statue,  gilded  with  pure  gold.  Tiie  female  figure  typifying  "  Alma  Mater " 
is  represented  as  sitting  in  a  chair  of  classic  shape,  her  ell>o\vs  resting  on  the  arms 
of  the  chair.  Botii  iiands  are  raised.  Tiie  right  hand  iiolds  and  is  supported  by  a 
sceptre.  On  her  head  is  a  classic  wreath,  and  on  lier  lap  lies  an  open  book,  from 
whicli  her  eyes  seem  to  have  just  been  raised  in  meditation.  Drapery  falls  in  semi- 
classic  folds  from  her  neciv  to  her  sandalleil  feet,  only  the  arms  and  neck  being  left 
bare. 

Every  University  man  cherishes  a  kindly  feeling  for  his  Alma  Mater,  and  the 
famous  American  .sculptor,  Daniel  C  French,  has  been  most  successful  in  his  artistic 
creation  of  the  "Fostering  Mother"  spiritualized — the  familiar  ideal  of  the  mother 
of  minds  trained  to  thouglU  and  consecrated  to  intellectual  service. 


I'1 

Jnternational  '^■ 

University   Lectures 


Delivered  by  the  Most  Distinguished 

Representatives  of  the  Greatest 

Universities  of  the  World 


At  the  Congress  of  Arts  and  Science 

Universal  Exposition,   Saint  Louis 


VOLUME    I. 


NEW  YORK 

UNIVERSITY  ALLIANCE,  Inc. 
1909 


Copyright,  1909 

BY 

University  alliance,  Inc. 


ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  CONGRESS 


PRESIDENT  OF  THE  EXPOSITION: 

HON.  DAVID  R.  FRANCIS,  A.M.,  LL.D. 

DIBECTOE  OF  CONGRESSES: 

HOWARD  J.  ROGERS,  A.M.,  LL.D. 
Universal  Exposition,  1904. 


ADMINISTRATIVE  BOARD 

NICHOLAS  MURRAY  BUTLER,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 
President  of  Columbia  University,  Chairman. 

WILLIAM  R.  HARPER,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 
President  of  the  University  of  Chicago. 

R.  H.  JESSE,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

President  of  the  University  of  Missouri. 

HENRY  S.  PRITCHETT,  PhD.,  LL.D. 
President  of  the  Massachusetts  Institute  of  Technology. 

HERBERT  PUTNAM,  Litt.D.,  LL.D. 
Librarian  of  Congress. 

FREDERICK  J.  V.  SKIFF,  A.M. 
Director  of  the  Field  Columbian  Museum. 


OFFICERS  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

president: 
SIMON  NEWCOMB,  PhD.,  LL.D. 
Retired  Professor  U.  8.  N. 

vice-presidents  : 

HUGO  MUNSTERBERG,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

Professor  of  Psychology  in  Harvard  University. 

ALBION  W.  SMALL,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 
Professor  of  Sociology  in  the  University  of  Chicago. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


VOIATME   I. 


Puhlisher's  Preface. 

PAGE 

History  of  the  Congress  xi 

Ey  Howard  J.  Rogers. 

iNTRODrcTOKY  ADDRESS,  Evolution  of  the  Scientific  Investigator . .     1 
By  Simon  Newcomb,  President  cf  the  Congress. 

HISTORY. 

Variety  and  Unity  of  History 21 

By  Woodeow  Wji.son,  President  of  Princeton  University. 

Science  of  History  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 4& 

By    WiLLiAJi    MiLLiGAN    Sloane,    Profcssor    of    History, 
Columbia  University. 

Expansion  of  Greek  History  75 

By  John  Pentland  Mahaffy.  Professor  cf  Ancient  His- 
tory, University  of  Dublin. 

Problems  in  Roman  History  95 

By  Ettore  Pais,  Professor  of  Ancient  History,  University 
of  Naples. 

A  Survey  of  the  History  of  Asia 121 

By  Henri  Cordier,  Professor  of  Oriental  Languages,  Uni- 
versity of  Paris. 

Eistoriccl  Development  of  the  Science  of  History  (Medieval) 157 

By  Karl  Gotthakt  Lamprecht,  Professor  of  History,  Uni- 
versity cf  Lejpsic. 

T 


CONTENTS— Continued. 

PACK 

Modern  History  of  Europe 177 

By  John  B.  Bl  by.  Professor  of  Modern  History,  Cambridge 
University. 

History  of  America    195 

Bt  Er)W.\Ki)  Gayi.ord  Boi  r\e.  Professor  of  History,  Yala 
University. 

BrBLiOGRAPur:   Department  of  History 215 

LANGUAGE. 

History  of  Languages   227 

By  Tno.\i.\s  R.vy.vksford  Lounsbi.by,  Professor  of  Englisli, 
Yale  University. 

Indo-Iranian  Languages   (Sanskrit) 267 

By  Sii.vAfx  T.f.vr,  Professor  of  Sanskrit,  College  of  France. 

Latin  Language   285 

Bt  Edward  Adolf  So.vnexschki.x,  Professor  of  Latin  and 
Greek,  University  of  Birmingham. 


FULL  PAGE  PHOTOGRAVURE  PLATES 


VOLUME  I. 


Illuminated  Symbolic  Fkontispiece. 


PAGE 

WooDROw  Wilson,  President  of  Princeton  University 48 


University  of  Paris  in  the  13th  Century 121 

Pioneers  op  American  History 212 


tU 


SCOPE  AND  PURPOSE  OF  THESE  INTERNA- 
TIONAL LECTURES. 

Education,  in  its  broadest  purpose,  was  never  so  pow- 
erfully, substantially  and  concretely  promoted  as  by  the 
plan  which  recently  culminated  in  an  International  Congress 
of  Arts  and  Science.  Every  civilized  nation  has  adopted  a 
method  of  public  instruction,  and  while  there  is  a  marked 
dissimilarity,  sometimes  offering  contrasts,  each  has  an  ele- 
ment of  good,  and  the  effects  are  wholesome.  The  Interna- 
tional Congress  of  Arts  and  Science  was  therefore  proposed 
with  the  view  to  the  bringing  together  representatives  of  the 
various  schools,  thereby  assimilating,  in  a  measure,  the 
experience  and  results,  the  theories  and  practices  of  the 
several  methods  in  use.  Another  purpose,  equally  promi- 
nent, was  to  present  by  lectures,  to  be  delivered  by  the  most 
distinguished  educators,  investigators,  and  scientists,  the  de- 
terminations, discoveries  and  inquiries  in  the  fields  of  re- 
search calculated  to  advance  and  exalt  the  spirit  of  highest 
civilization. 

Never  before  in  history  has  such  a  beneficent  purpose 
been  so  well  accomplished,  or  such  a  gathering  of  the 
world's  greatest  savants  been  seen,  as  distinguished  this 
famous  Congress,  an  assemblage  which  was  possible  only 
through  the  active  aid  given  by  the  rulers  of  participating 
governments,  and  the  expenditure  of  a  vast  sum  of  money. 

The  series  of  lectures  delivered  at  this  epochal  Congress 
embrace,  in  a  distinctly  authoritative  way,  practically  every 
subject  with  which  both  the  scientific  enquirer  and  the 
masses  are  most  concerned.  The  arrangement  also  com- 
mends them  to  every  class  of  readers,  since  the  lectures 
are  introduced  in  the  order  of  natural  development  of  edu- 

ix 


cation  and  civilization  so  as  to  most  clearly  describe  the 
progress  of  man :  Thus,  beginning  with  History,  the 
foundation  of  enquiry,  the  subjects  follow  in  sequence: 
Language,  Religion,  Education,  Law,  Literature,  Art,  the 
Sciences — Geology,  Geography,  Palaeontology  (plants  and 
animals  in  a  fossil  state),  Archceology  (antiquities),  Eth- 
nology (races  of  mankind).  Embryology  (the  beginning 
of  life),  Biology  (the  science  of  life),  Origin  of  Species, 
Evolution  (the  processes  of  life  development).  Sociology — 
government,  national,  state,  municipal;  Technology,  espe- 
cially Engineering;  Mathematics,  Medicine,  Anti-Toxin 
Treatment,  Surgery,  Astronomy,  Architecture,  Painting, 
Sculpture,  ]\Iusic,  the  Drama,  etc.  There  are  also  lectures 
on  Commerce,  Finance,  Transportation,  Insurance,  Labor, 
Industrial  Problems,  Administration,  Diplomacy,  Farming, 
Great  Social  Problems,  etc.  In  brief,  the  subjects  herein 
treated  embrace  a  variety  that  covers  the  field  of  human 
study,  and  in  each  case  the  lecturer,  representing  some  one 
of  the  most  famous  universities  of  the  world,  has  achieved 
distinction  in  the  particular  branch  of  know^ledge  upon 
which  he  was  invited  to  speak. 

This  imperfect  resume  of  the  contents  of  the  series  in- 
dicates the  extraordinary  value  of  the  collection,  valuable 
not  only  to  the  professional  man,  but  equally  so  to  the 
masses,  for  the  lectures  impart  instruction,  which  is 
nowhere  else  obtainable  in  such  compact  form,  on  the  up- 
growth of  the  race  in  all  pursuits.  In  its  entirety,  therefore, 
the  work  is  a  school  for  children,  a  college  for  youth,  a 
university  for  the  graduand,  and  a  text-book  for  every  m^i, 
woman,  girl,  and  boy  who  appreciates  the  benefit  and  mas- 
tery which  education  gives. 

The  University  Alliance,  Inc. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

BY   HOWARD  J.    ROGERS  A.M.,   LL,.D. 

The  forces  which  bring  to  a  common  point  the  thousand- 
fold energies  of  a  universal  exposition  can  best  promote 
an  international  congress  of  ideas.  Under  national  pat- 
ronage and  under  the  spur  of  international  competition 
the  best  products  and  the  latest  inventions  of  man  in 
science,  in  literature,  and  in  art  are  grouped  together  in 
orderly  classification.  Whether  the  motive  underlying  the 
exhibits  be  the  promotion  of  commerce  and  trade,  or 
whether  it  be  individual  ambition,  or  whether  it  be  national 
pride  and  loyalty,  the  resultant  is  the  same.  The  space 
within  the  boundaries  of  the  exposition  is  a  forum  of  the 
nations  where  equal  rights  are  guaranteed  to  every  rep- 
resentative from  any  quarter  of  the  globe,  and  where  the 
sovereignty  of  each  nation  is  recognized  whenever  its  flag 
floats  over  a  national  pavilion  or  an  exhibit  area.  The 
productive  genius  of  every  governed  people  contends  in 
peaceful  rivalry  for  world  recognition,  and  the  exposition 
becomes  an  international  clearing-house  for  practical  ideas. 

For  the  demonstration  of  the  value  of  these  products 
men  thoroughly  skilled  in  their  development  and  use  are 
sent  by  the  various  exhibitors.  The  exposition  by  the 
logic  of  its  creation  thus  gathers  to  itself  the  expert  rep- 
resentatives of  every  art  and  industry.  For  at  least  two 
months  in  the  exposition  period  there  are  present  the  mem- 
bers of  the  international  jury  of  awards,  selected  specially 
by  the  different  governments  for  their  thorough  knowledge, 
theoretical  and  practical,  of  the  departments  to  which  they 


XII         THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

are  assigned,  and  selected  further  for  their  ability  to  im- 
press upon  others  the  correctness  of  their  views.  The 
renown  of  a  universal  exposition  brings,  as  visitors,  stu- 
dents and  investigators  bent  upon  the  solution  of  problems 
and  anxious  to  know  the  latest  contributions  to  the  facts 
and  the  theories  which  underlie  every  phase  of  the  world's 
development. 

The  material  therefore  is  ready  at  hand  with  which  to 
construct  the  framework  of  a  conference  of  parts,  or  a 
congress  of  the  whole  of  any  subject.  It  was  a  natural  and 
logical  step  to  accompany  the  study  of  the  exhibits  with  a 
debate  on  their  excellence,  an  analysis  of  their  growth,  and 
an  argument  for  their  future.  Hence  the  congress.  The 
exposition  and  the  congress  are  correlative  terms.  The 
former  concentres  the  visible  products  of  the  brain  and 
hand  of  man ;  the  congress  is  the  literary  embodiment  of  its 
activities. 

Yet  it  was  not  till  the  Paris  Exposition  of  18S9  that  the 
idea  of  a  series  of  congresses,  international  in  membership 
and  universal  in  scope,  was  fully  developed.  The  three 
preceding  expositions,  Paris,  1878,  Philadelphia,  1876,  and 
Vienna,  1873,  had  held  under  their  auspices  many  con- 
ferences and  congresses,  and  indeed  the  germ  of  the  con- 
gress idea  may  be  said  to  have  been  the  establishment  of 
the  International  Scientific  Commission  in  connection  with 
the  Paris  Exposition  of  1867;  but  all  of  these  meetings 
were  unrelated  and  sometimes  almost  accidental  in  their 
organization,  although  many  were  of  great  scientific 
interest  and  value. 

The  success  of  the  series  of  seventy  congresses  in  Paris 
in  1889  led  the  authorities  of  the  World's  Columbian 
Exposition  in  1893  to  establish  the  World's  Congress 
.Auxiliary,  designed  "to  supplement  the  exhibit  of  material 
progress  by  the  Exposition,  by  a  portrayal  of  the  wonderful 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS        xiii 

achievements  of  the  new  age  in  science,  literature,  educa- 
tion, government,  jurisprudence,  morals,  charity,  religion, 
and  other  departments  of  human  activity,  as  the  most  effect- 
ive means  of  increasing  the  fraternity,  progress,  prosperity, 
and  peace  of  mankind."  The  widespread  interest  in  this 
series  of  meetings  is  a  matter  easily  within  recollection, 
but  they  were  in  no  wise  interrelated  to  each  other,  nor 
more  than  ordinarily  comprehensive  in  their  scope. 

It  remained  for  the  Paris  Expositon  of  1900  to  bring 
to  a  perfect  organization  this  type  of  congress  develop- 
ment. By  ministerial  decree  issued  two  years  prior  to  the 
exposition  the  conduct  of  the  department  was  set  forth  to 
the  minutest  detail.  One  hundred  twenty-five  congresses, 
each  with  its  separate  secretary  and  organizing  committee, 
were  authorized  and  grouped  under  twelve  sections  cor- 
responding closely  to  the  exhibit  classification.  The  prin- 
cipal delegate,  M.  Gariel,  reported  to  a  special  commission, 
which  was  directly  responsible  to  the  government.  The 
department  was  admirably  conducted  and  reached  as  high 
a  degree  of  success  as  a  highly  diversified,  ably  admin- 
istered, but  unrelated  system  of  international  conferences 
could.  And  yet  the  attendance  on  a  majority  of  these 
congresses  was  disappointing,  and  in  many  there  was 
scarcely  any  one  present  outside  the  immediate  circle  of 
those  concerned  in  its  development.  If  this  condition  could 
prevail  in  Paris,  the  home  of  arts  and  letters,  in  the  im- 
mediate centre  of  the  great  constituency  of  the  University 
and  of  many  scientific  circles  and  learned  societies,  and 
within  easy  traveling  distance  of  other  European  university 
and  literary  centres,  it  was  fair  to  presume  that  the  useful- 
ness of  this  class  of  congress  was  decreasing.  It  certainly 
was  safe  to  assume,  on  the  part  of  the  authorities  of  the 
St.  Louis  Exposition  of  1904,  that  such  a  series  could  not 
be  a  success  in  that  city,  owing  to  its  geographical  position 


XIV        THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

and  the  limited  number  of  university  and  scientific  circles 
within  a  reasonable  traveling  distance.  Something  more 
than  a  repetition  of  the  stereotyped  form  of  conference  was 
admitted  to  be  necessary  in  order  to  arouse  interest  among 
scholars  and  to  bring  credit  to  the  Exposition. 

This  was  the  serious  problem  which  confronted  the 
Exposition  of  St,  Louis.  No  exposition  was  ever  better 
fitted  to  serve  as  the  ground-work  of  a  congress  of  ideas 
than  that  of  St.  Louis.  The  ideal  of  the  Exposition,  which 
was  created  in  time  and  fixed  in  place  to  commemorate  a 
great  historic  event,  was  its  educational  influence.  Its 
appeal  to  the  citizens  of  the  United  States  for  support,  to 
the  Federal  Congress  for  appropriations,  and  to  foreign 
governments  for  cooperation,  v*^as  made  purely  on  this 
basis.  For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  expositions  the 
educational  influence  was  made  the  dominant  factor  and 
the  classification  and  installation  of  exhibits  made  con- 
tributory to  that  principle.  The  main  purpose  of  the 
Exposition  w^as  to  place  within  reach  of  the  investigator 
the  objective  thought  of  the  world,  so  classified  as  to  show 
its  relations  to  all  similar  phases  of  human  endeavor,  and 
so  arranged  as  to  be  practically  available  for  reference 
and  study.  As  a  part  of  the  organic  scheme  a  congress 
plan  was  contemplated  which  should  be  correlative  with 
the  exhibit  features  of  the  Exposition,  and  whose  pub- 
lished proceedings  should  stand  as  a  monument  to  the 
breadth  and  enterprise  of  the  Exposition  long  after  its 
buildings  had  disappeared  and  its  commercial  achievements 
grown  dim  in  the  minds  of  men. 

DEVELOPMENT    OF    THE    CONGRESS. 

The  Department  of  Congresses,  to  which  was  to  be  in- 
trusted this  difficult  task,  was  not  established  until  the  latter 
part  of  1902,  although  the  question  was  for  a  year  previous 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS  xv 

the  subject  of  many  discussions  and  conferences  between 
the  President  of  the  Exposition,  Mr.  Francis ;  the  Director 
of  Exhibits,  Mr.  SkifT;  the  Chief  of  the  Department  of 
Education,  Mr.  Rogers;  President  Nicholas  Murray  Butler 
of  Columbia  University,  and  President  William  R.  Harper 
of  Chicago  University.  To  the  disinterested  and  valuable 
advice  of  the  two  last-named  gentlemen  during  the  entire 
history  of  the  Congress  the  Exposition  is  under  heavy 
obligations.  During  this  period  proposals  had  been  made 
to  two  men  of  international  reputation  to  give  all  their 
time  for  two  years  to  the  organization  of  a  plan  of  con- 
gresses which  should  accomplish  the  ultimate  purpose  of 
the  Exposition  authorities.  Neither  one,  however,  could 
arrange  to  be  relieved  of  the  pressure  of  his  regular  duties, 
and  the  entire  scheme  of  supervision  was  consequently 
changed.  The  plan  adopted  was  based  upon  the  idea  of 
an  advisory  board  composed  of  men  of  high  literary  and 
scientific  standing  who  should  consider  and  recommend  the 
kind  of  congress  most  worthy  of  promotion,  and  the  details 
of  its  development. 

In  November,  1902,  Howard  J.  Rogers,  LL.D.,  was 
appointed  Director  of  Congresses,  and  the  members  of  the 
Advisory  (afterwards  termed  Administrative)  Board  se- 
lected as  follows : — 

Chairman:  Nichoi^as  Murray  Butler,  Ph.D., 
LL.D.,    President  Columbia  University. 

William  R.  Harper,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  President  Uni- 
versity of  Chicago. 

Honorable  Frederick  W.  Holls,  A.M.,  LL.B.,  New 
York. 

R.  H.  Jesse,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  President  University  of 
Missouri. 

Henry  S.  Pritchett,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  President  Massa- 
chusetts Institute  of  Technology. 


XVI        THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

Herbert  Putnam,  Litt.D.  LL.D.  Librarian  of  Con- 
gress. 

Frederick  J.  V.  Skife,  A.M.,  Director  of  Field  Colum- 
bian Museum. 

The  action  of  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Exposi- 
tion, approved  by  the  President,  was  as  follows : — 

There  shall  be  appointed  by  the  President  of  the  Exposition  Com- 
pany a  Director  of  Congresses  who  shall  report  to  the  President  of 
the  Exposition  Company. 

There  shall  be  appointed  by  the  President  of  the  Exposition  Com- 
pany an  Advisory  Board  of  seven  persons,  the  chairman  to  be  named 
by  the  President,  who  shall  meet  at  the  call  of  the  Director  of 
Congresses,  or  the  Chairman  of  the  Advisory  Board. 

The  expenses  of  the  members  of  the  Advisory  Board  while  on 
business  of  the  Exposition  shall  be  a  charge  against  the  funds  of 
the  Exposition  Company. 

The  duties  of  the  said  Advisory  Board  shall  be:  to  consider  and 
make  recommendations  to  the  Director  of  Congresses  on  all  matters 
submitted  to  them;  to  determine  the  number  and  the  extent  of  the 
congresses;  the  emphasis  to  be  placed  upon  special  features;  the 
prominent  men  to  be  invited  to  participate;  the  character  of  the 
programmes;  and  the  methods  for  successfully  carrying  out  the 
enterprise. 

There  shall  be  set  aside  from  the  Exposition  funds  for  the  main- 
tenance of  the  congresses  the  sum  of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars 
($200,000). 

The  Standing  Committee  on  Congresses  from  the  Expo- 
sition board  of  directors  was  shortly  afterwards  appointed 
and  was  composed  of  five  of  the  most  prominent  men  in 
St.   Louis : — 

Chairman:  Hon.  Frederick  W.  Lehmann,  Attorney 
at  Law. 

Breckenridge  Jones,  Ranker. 

Charles  W.  Knapp,  Editor  of  The  St.  Louis  Republic. 

John  Schroers,  Manager  of  the  Westliche  Post. 

A.  F.  ShaplEich,  Merchant. 

To  this  committee  were  referred  for  consideration  by 
the  President  all  matters  of  policy  submitted  by  the  Di- 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS       xvii 

rector  of  Congresses.  This  committee  had  jurisdiction  over 
all  congress  matters,  including  not  only  the  Congress  of 
Arts  and  Science,  but  also  the  many  miscellaneous  con- 
gresses and  conventions,  and  a  great  part  of  the  success 
of  the  congresses  is  due  to  their  broad-minded  and  liberal 
determination  of  the  questions  laid  before  them. 

IDEA  OF  THE  CONGRESS  OE  ARTS  AND  SCIENCE 

It  is  impossible  to  ascribe  the  original  idea  of  the  Con- 
gress of  Arts  and  Science  to  any  one  person.  It  v^as  a 
matter  of  slow  growth  from  the  many  conferences  which 
had  been  held  for  a  year  by  men  of  many  occupations, 
and  as  finally  worked  out  bore  little  resemblance  to  the 
original  plans  under  discussion.  The  germ  of  the  idea 
may  fairly  be  said  to  have  been  contained  in  Director 
Skiff's  insistence  to  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Expo- 
sition that  the  congress  work  stand  for  something  more 
than  an  unrelated  series  of  independent  gatherings,  and 
that  some  project  be  authorized  which  would  at  once  be 
distinctive  and  of  real  scientific  worth.  To  support  this 
view  Director  Skiff  brought  the  Executive  Committee  to 
the  view  of  expending  $200,000,  if  need  be,  to  insure  the 
project.  Starting  from  this  suggestion  many  plans  were 
brought  forward,  but  one  which  seems  to  belong  of  right 
to  the  late  Honorable  Frederick  W.  Holls,  of  New  York 
City,  contained  perhaps  the  next  recognizable  step  in  ad- 
vance. This  thought  was,  briefly,  that  a  series  of  lectures 
on  scientific  and  literary  topics  by  men  prominent  in  their 
respective  fields  be  delivered  at  the  Exposition  and  that 
the  Exposition  pay  the  speakers  for  their  services.  This 
point  was  thoroughly  discussed  by  Mr.  Holls  and  Presi- 
dent Butler,  and  the  next  step  in  the  evolution  of  the 
Congress  was  the  idea  of  bringing  these  lecturers  together 
at  the  Exposition  at  about  the  same  time  or  all  during  one 


xviii      THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

month.  At  this  stage  Professor  Hugo  Miinsterberg,  who 
was  the  guest  of  Mr.  Holls  and  an  invited  participant  in 
the  conference,  made  the  important  suggestion  that  such 
a  series  of  unrelated  lectures,  even  though  given  by  most 
eminent  men,  would  have  little  or  no  scientific  value,  but 
that  if  some  relation,  or  underlying  thought,  could  be  intro- 
duced into  the  addresses,  then  the  best  work  could  be  done, 
which  would  be  of  real  value  to  the  scientific  world.  He 
further  stated  that  only  in  this  case  would  scientific  leaders 
be  likely  to  favor  the  plan  of  a  St.  Louis  congress,  as  they 
would  feel  attracted  not  so  much  through  the  honorariums 
to  be  given  for  their  services  as  through  the  valuable  op- 
portunity of  developing  such  a  contribution  to  scientific 
thought.  Subsequently  Professor  Miinsterberg  was  asked 
by  Mr.  Holls  to  formulate  his  ideas  in  a  manner  to  be 
submitted  to  the  Exposition  authorities.  This  was  done 
in  a  communication  under  date  of  October  20,  1902,  which 
contained  logically  presented  the  foundation  of  the  plan 
afterwards  worked  out  in  detail.  At  this  juncture  the 
Department  of  Congresses  was  organized,  as  has  been 
stated,  the  Director  named,  and  the  Administrative  Board 
appointed,  and  on  December  27,  1902,  the  first  meeting  of 
the  Director  with  the  Administrative  Board  took  place  in 
New  York  City. 

A  thorough  canvass  of  the  subject  was  made  at  this 
meeting  and  as  a  result  the  following  recommendations 
were  made  to  the  Exposition  authorities : — 

(1)  That  the  sessions  of  this  Congress  be  held  within 
a  period  of  four  weeks,  beginning  September  15,  1904. 

(2)  That  the  various  groups  of  learned  men  who  may 
come  together  be  asked  to  discuss  their  several  sciences 
or  professions  with  reference  to  some  theme  of  universal 
human  interest,  in  order  that  thereby  a  certain  unity  of 
interest  and  of  action  may  be  had.     Under  such  a  plan 


I 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS        xix 

the  groups  of  men  who  come  together  would  thus  form 
sections  of  a  single  Congress  rather  than  separate  con- 
gresses. 

(3)  As  a  subject  which  has  universal  significance;  and 
one  likely  to  serve  as  a  connecting  thread  for  all  of  the 
discussions  of  the  Congress,  the  theme  "  The  Progress  of 
Man  since  the  Louisiana  Purchase "  was  considered  by 
the  Administrative  Board  fit  and  suggestive.  It  is  be- 
lieved that  discussions  by  leaders  of  thought  in  the  various 
branches  of  pure  and  applied  science,  in  philosophy,  in 
politics,  and  in  religion,  from  the  standpoint  of  man's 
progress  in  the  century  which  has  elapsed,  would  be  fruit- 
ful, not  only  in  clearing  the  thoughts  of  men  not  trained 
in  science  and  in  government,  but  also  in  preparing  the 
way  for  new  advances. 

(4)  The  Administrative  Board  further  recommends 
that  the  Congress  be  made  up  from  men  of  thought  and 
of  action,  whose  work  would  probably  fall  under  the  fol- 
lowing general  heads : — 

a.  The  Natural  Sciences  (such  as  Astronomy,  Biology, 
Mathematics,  etc.). 

h.  The  Historical,  Sociological,  and  Economic  group  of 
studies   (History,  Political  Economy,  etc.). 

c.  Philosophy  and   Religion. 

d.  Medicine  and  Surgery. 

e.  Law,  Politics,  and  Government  (including  develop- 
ment and  history  of  the  colonies,  their  government,  revenue 
and  prosperity,  arbitration,  etc.). 

/.  Applied  Science  (including  the  various  branches  of 
engineering). 

(5)  The  Administrative  Board  recommends  further 
referring  to  a  special  committee  of  seven  the  problem  of 
indicating  in  detail  the  method  in  which  this  plan  can  best 


XX  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

be  carried  out.  To  this  committee  is  assigned  the  duty 
of  choosing  the  general  divisions  of  the  Congress,  the 
various  branches  of  science  and  of  study  in  these  divisions, 
and  of  recommending  to  the  Administrative  Board  a  de- 
tailed plan  of  the  sections  in  which,  in  their  judgment, 
those  who  come  to  the  Congress  may  be  most  effectively 
grouped,  with  a  view  not  only  to  bring  out  the  central 
theme,  but  also  to  represent  in  a  helpful  way  and  in  a 
suggestive  manner  the  present  boundary  of  knowledge  in 
the  various  lines  of  study  and  investigation  which  the  com- 
mittee may  think  wise  to  accept. 

These  recommendations  were  transmitted  by  the  Di- 
rector of  Congresses  to  the  Committee  on  Congresses, 
approved  by  them,  and  afterwards  approved  by  the  Ex- 
ecutive Committee  and  the  President.  The  first  four 
recommendations  were  of  a  preliminary  character,  but  the 
fifth  contained  a  distinct  advance  in  the  formation  of  a 
Committee  on  Plan  and  Scope  which  should  be  composed 
of  eminent  scientists  capable  of  developing  the  fundamental 
idea  into  a  plan  which  should  harmonize  with  the  scientific 
work  in  every  field.  The  committee  selected  were  as 
follows : — 

Dr.  Simon  Newcomb,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Retired  Professor 
of  Mathematics,  U.  S.  Navy. 

Prof.  Hugo  Munsterberg,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor 
of  Psychology,  Harvard  University. 

Prof.  John  Bassett  Moore,  LL.D.,  ex-assistant  Sec- 
retary of  State,  and  Professor  of  International  Law  and 
Diplomacy,  Columbia  University. 

Prof.  Albion  W.  Small,  Ph.D.,  Professor  of  So- 
ciology, University  of  Chicago. 

Dr.  William  H.  Welch,  M.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of 
Pathology.  Johns  Hopkins  University. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS        xxi 

Hon,  Euhu  Thompson,  Consulting  Engineer  General 
Electric  Company. 

Prop.  George  E.  Moore,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of 
Comparative  Religion,   Harvard  University. 

In  response  to  a  letter  from  President  Butler,  Chairman 
of  the  Administrative  Board,  giving  a  complete  resume  of 
the  growth  of  the  idea  of  the  Congress  to  that  time,  all 
of  the  members  of  the  committee,  with  the  exception  of 
Mr.  Thompson,  met  at  the  Hotel  Manhattan  on  January 
10,  1903,  for  a  preliminary  discussion.  The  entire  field 
was  canvassed,  using  the  recommendations  of  the  Admin- 
istrative Board  and  the  aforementioned  letter  of  Professor 
Miinsterberg's  to  Mr.  Holls  as  a  basis,  and  an  adjourn- 
ment taken  until  January  17  for  the  preparation  of  detailed 
recommendations. 

The  Committee  on  Plan  and  Scope  again  met,  all  mem- 
bers being  present,  at  the  Hotel  Manhattan  on  January  17, 
and  arrived  at  definite  conclusions,  which  were  embodied 
in  the  report  to  the  Administrative  Board,  a  meeting  of 
which  had  been  called  at  the  Hotel  Manhattan  for  January 
19,  1903. 

Plans  of  the  Congress 

As  a  basis  of  discussion  two  plans  were  drawn  up  by  members  of 
the  Committee  and  submitted  to  it.  The  one,  by  Professor  Miins- 
terberg,  started  from  a  comprehensive  classification  and  review  of 
human  achievement  in  advancing  knowledge,  the  other,  by  Professor 
Small,  from  an  equally  comprehensive  reriew  of  the  great  public 
questions  involved  in  human  progress. 

Professor  Miinsterberg  proposed  a  congress  having  the  definite 
task  of  bringing  out  the  unity  of  knowledge  with  a  view  of  correlat- 
ing the  scattered  theoretical  and  practical  scientific  work  of  our 
day.  This  plan  proposed  that  the  congress  should  continue  through 
one  week.  The  first  day  was  to  be  devoted  to  the  discussion  of  the 
most  general  problem  of  knowledge  in  one  comprehensive  discussion 
and  four  general  divisions.  On  the  second  day  the  congress  was  to 
divide  into  several  groups  and  on  the  remaining  days  into  yet  more 
specialized  groups,  as  set  forth  in  detail  in  the  plan. 


XXII       THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

The  plan  by  Professor  Small  proposed  a  congress  which  would  ex- 
hibit not  merely  the  scholar's  interpretation  of  progress  in  scholar- 
ship, but  rather  the  scholar's  interpretation  of  progress  in  civiliza- 
tion in  general.  The  proposal  was  based  on  a  division  of  human 
interests  into  six  great  groups:  — 

I.  The  Promotion  of  Health. 

II.  The  Production  of  Wealth. 

III.  The  Harmonizing  of  Human  Relations. 

IV.  Discovery  and  Spread  of  Knowledge. 
V.  Progress  in  the  Fine  Arts. 

VI.     Progress  in  Religion. 

The  plan  agreed  with  the  other  in  beginning  with  a  general  dis- 
cussion and  then  subdividing  the  congress  into  divisions  and  groups. 

As  a  third  plan  the  Chairman  of  the  Committee  suggested  the  idea 
of  a  congress  of  publicists  and  representative  men  of  all  nations 
and  of  all  civilized  peoples,  which  should  discuss  relations  of  each 
to  all  the  others  and  throw  light  on  the  question  of  promoting  the 
unity  and  progress  of  the  race. 

After  due  consideration  of  these  plans  the  Committee  reached  the 
conclusion  that  the  ends  aimed  at  in  the  second  and  third  plans 
could  be  attained  by  taking  the  first  plan  as  a  basis,  and  including 
in  its  subdivisions,  so  far  as  was  deemed  advisable,  the  subjects 
proposed  in  the  second  and  third  plans.  They  accordingly  adopted 
a  resolution  that  "Mr.  Miinsterberg's  plan  be  adopted  as  setting  forth 
the  general  object  of  the  Congress  and  defining  the  scope  of  its 
work,  and  that  Mr.  Small's  plan  be  communicated  to  the  General 
Committee  as  containing  suggestions  as  to  details,  but  without 
recommending  its  adoption  as  a  whole." 

D.\TE   OF   THE   CONGEESS 

Your  Committee  is  of  opinion  that,  in  view  of  the  climatic  con- 
ditions at  St.  Louis  during  the  summer  and  early  autumn,  it  is 
desirable  that  the  meeting  of  this  general  Congress  be  held  during 
the  six  days  beginning  on  Monday,  September  19,  1904,  and  con- 
tinuing until  the  Saturday  following.  Special  associations  choosing 
St.  Louis  as  their  meeting-place  may  then  convene  at  such  other 
dates  as  may  be  deemed  fit;  but  it  is  suggested  that  learned  societies 
whose  field  is  connected  with  that  of  the  Congress  should  meet 
during  the  week  beginning  September  26. 

The  sectional  discussions  of  the  Congress  will  then  be  continued 
by  these  societies,  the  whole  forming  a  continuous  discussion  of 
human  progress  during  the  last  century. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS      xxiii 

Plan  of  Addresses 

The  Committee  believe  that  in  order  to  carry  out  the  proposed 
plan  in  the  most  effective  way  it  is  necessary  that  the  addresses  be 
prepared  by  the  highest  living  authorities  in  each  and  every  branch. 
In  the  last  subdivisions,  each  section  embraces  two  papers;  one  on 
the  history  of  the  subject  during  the  last  one  hundred  years  and 
the  other  on  the  problems  of  to-day. 

The  programme  of  papers  suggested  by  the  Committee  as  em- 
braced in  Professor  Miinsterberg's  plan  may  be  summarized  as 
follows:  — 

On  the  first  day  four  papers  will  be  read  on  the  general  subject, 
and  four  on  each  of  the  four  large  divisions,  twenty  in  all.  On 
the  second  day  those  four  divisions  will  be  divided  into  twenty 
groups,  or  departments,  each  of  which  will  have  four  papers  refer- 
ring to  the  divisions  and  relations  of  the  sciences,  eighty  in  all.  On 
the  last  four  days,  two  papers  in  each  of  the  120  sections,  240  in 
all,  thuB  making  a  total  of  340  papers. 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  the  men  who  will  make  the  addresses 
should  not  be  expected  to  bear  all  the  expense  of  their  attendance 
at  the  Congress,  it  seems  advisable  that  the  authorities  of  the  Fair 
should  provide  for  the  expenses  necessarily  incurred  in  the  journey, 
as  well  as  pay  a  small  honorarium  for  the  addresses.  The  Com- 
mittee suggest,  therefore,  that  each  American  invited  be  offered 
$100  for  his  traveling  expenses  and  each  European  $400.  In  addition 
to  this  that  each  receive  $150  as  an  honorarium.  Assuming  that 
one-half  of  those  invited  to  deliver  addresses  will  be  Americans  and 
one  half  Europeans,  this  arrangement  will  involve  the  expenditure 
of  $136,000.  This  estimate  will  be  reduced  if  the  same  person 
prepares  more  than  one  address.  It  will  also  be  reduced  if  more 
than  half  of  the  speakers  are  Americans,  and  increased  in  the 
opposite  case. 

As  the  Committee  is  not  advised  of  the  amount  which  the  manage- 
ment of  the  Exposition  may  appropriate  for  the  purpose  of  the  Con- 
gress, it  cannot,  at  present,  enter  further  into  details  of  adjustment, 
but  it  records  its  opinion  that  the  sum  suggested  is  the  least  by 
which  the  ends  sought  to  be  attained  by  the  Congress  can  be  accom- 
plished. To  this  must  be  added  the  expenses  of  administration  and 
publication. 

All  addresses  paid  for  by  the  Congress  should  be  regarded  as  its 
property,  and  be  printed  and  published  together,  thus  constituting 
a  comprehensive  work  exhibiting  the  unity,  progress,  and  present 
state  of  knowledge. 

This  plan  does  not  preclude  the  delivery  of  more  than  one  address 
by  a  single  scholar.     The  directors  of  the  Exposition  may  sometimes 


XXIV      THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

find  it  advisable  to  ask  the  same  scholar  to  deliver  two  addresses, 
possibly  even  three. 

The  Committee  recommends  that  full  liberty  be  allowed  to  each 
section  of  the  Congress  in  arranging  the  general  character  and 
programme  of  its  discussions  within  the  field  proposed. 

As  an  example  of  how  the  plan  will  work  in  the  case  of  any  one 
section,  the  Committee  take  the  case  of  a  neurologist  desiring  to 
profit  by  those  discussions  which  relate  to  his  branch  of  medicine. 
This  falls  under  C  of  the  four  main  divisions  as  related  to  the 
physical  sciences.  His  interest  on  the  first  day  will  therefore  be 
centered  in  Division  C,  where  he  may  hear  the  general  discussion  of 
the  physical  sciences  and  the  relations  to  the  other  sciences.  On 
the  second  day  he  will  hear  four  papers  in  Group  18  on  the  subjects 
embraced  in  the  general  science  of  anthropology;  one  on  its  funda- 
mental conceptions;  one  on  its  methods  and  two  on  the  relation  of 
anthropology  to  the  sciences  most  closely  connected  with  it.  Dur- 
ing the  remaining  four  days  he  will  meet  with  the  representatives  of 
medicine  and  its  related  subjects,  who  will  divide  into  sections,  and 
listen  to  four  papers  in  each  section.  One  paper  will  consider  the 
progress  of  that  section  in  the  last  one  hundred  years,  one  paper 
will  be  devoted  to  the  problems  of  to-day,  leaving  room  for  such 
contributions  and  discussions  as  may  seem  appropriate  during  the 
remainder  of  the  day. 

Cooperation  of  Learned   Societies   Invoked. 

In  presenting  this  general  plan,  your  Committee  wishes  to  point 
out  the  difficulty  of  deciding  in  advance  what  subjects  should  be 
included  in  every  section.  Therefore,  the  Committee  deems  it  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  secure  the  advice  and  assistance  of  learned 
Hocioties  in  this  country  in  perfecting  the  details  of  the  proposed 
plan,  especially  the  selection  of  speakers  and  the  programme  of 
work  in  each  spction.  It  will  facilitate  the  latter  purpose  if  such 
societies  be  invited  and  encouraged  to  hold  meetings  at  St.  Louis 
during  the  week  immediately  preceding,  or,  preferably,  the  week 
following  the  General  Congress.  The  selection  of  speakers  should 
be  made  as  soon  as  possible,  and,  in  any  case,  before  the  end  of  the 
present  academic  year,  in  order  that  formal  invitations  may  be 
issueJ  and  final  arrangements  made  with  the  speakers  a  year  in 
advance  of  the  Congress. 

CoNCLiDiNc;   Suggestions 

With  the  view  of  securing  the  cooperation  of  the  governments  and 
leading  scholars  of  the  principal  countries  of  Western  and  Central 
Europe   in  the  proposed  Congress,   it  seems  advisable  to  send  two 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS       xxv 

commissioners  to  these  countries  for  this  ourpose.  It  seems  un- 
necessary to  extend  the  operations  of  this  commission  outside  the 
European  continent  or  to  other  than  the  leading  countries.  In  other 
cases  arrangements  can  be  made  by  correspondence. 

It  is  the  opinion  of  the  Committee  that  an  American  of  world-wide 
reputation  as  a  scholar  should  be  selected  to  preside  over  the  Con- 
gress. 
All  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 

(Signed)  Simon    Newcomb, 

Chairman; 
Geobge  F.  Moore, 
John  B.  Mooke, 
Hugo  Munsterbeeg, 
Albion  W.  Small, 
William  H.  Welch, 
EUHU  Thomson, 

Committee. 

The  Administrative  Board  met  on  January  19  to  receive 
the  report  of  the  Committee  on  Plan  and  Scope  which  was 
presented  by  Dr.  Newcomb.  Professor  Miinsterberg  and 
Professor  John  Bassett  Moore  were  also  present  by  invi- 
tation to  discuss  the  details  of  the  scheme.  In  the  after- 
noon the  Board  went  into  executive  session,  and  the 
following  recommendations  were  adopted  and  transmitted 
by  the  Director  of  Congresses  to  the  Committee  on 
Congresses  of  the  Exposition  and  to  the  President  and 
Executive   Committee,   who  duly  approved  them. 

To  the  Director  of  Congresses:  — 

The  Administrative  Board  have  the  honor  to  make  the  following 
recommendations  in  reference  to  the  Department  of  Congresses:  — 

(1)  That  there  be  held  in  connection  with  the  Universal  Expo- 
sition of  St.  Louis  in  1904,  an  International  Congress  of  Arts  and 
Science. 

(2)  That  the  plan  recommended  by  the  Committee  on  Plan  and 
Scope  for  a  general  congress  of  Arts  and  Science,  to  be  held  during 
the  six  days  beginning  on  Monday,  September  19,  1904,  be  approved 
and  adopted,  subject  to  such  revision  in  point  of  detail  as  may  be 
advisable,  preserving  its  fundamental  principles. 

(3)   That  Simon  Newcomb,  LL.D.,  of  Washington,  D.  C,  be  named 


xx\T      THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

for   President  of  the   International  Congress   of  Arts   and   Science, 
provided  for  In  the  foregoing  resolution. 

(4)  That  Professor  Miinsterberg,  of  Harvard  University,  and 
I*rofessor  Albion  W.  Small,  of  the  University  of  Chicago,  be  Invited 
to  act  as  Vice-Presidents  of  the  Congress. 

(5)  That  the  Directors  of  the  World's  Fair  be  requested  to  change 
the  name  of  this  Board  from  the  "Advisory  Board"  to  the  "Admin- 
istrative Board  of  the  International  Congress  of  Arts  and  Science." 

(6)  That  the  detailed  arrangements  for  the  Congress  be  intrusted 
to  a  committee  consisting  of  the  President  and  two  Vice-Presidents 
already  named,  subject  to  the  general  oversight  and  control  of  the 
Administrative  Board,  and  that  the  Directors  of  the  Exposition  be 
requested  to  make  appropriate  provision  for  their  compensation 
and  necessary  expenses. 

(7)  That  it  be  recommended  to  the  Directors  of  the  World's  Fair 
that  appropriate  provision  should  be  made  in  the  office  of  the  De- 
partment of  Congresses  for  an  executive  secretary  and  such  clerical 
assistance  as  may  be  needed. 

(8)  That  the  following  payment  be  recommended  to  those  scholars 
who  accept  invitations  to  participate  and  do  a  specified  piece  of 
work,  or  submit  a  specified  contribution  in  the  International  Con- 
gress of  Arts  and  Science:  For  traveling  expenses  for  a  European 
scholar,  $500.    For  traveling  expenses  for  an  American  scholar,  $150. 

(9)  That  provision  be  made  for  the  publication  of  the  proceedings 
of  the  Congress  in  suitable  form  to  constitute  a  permanent  memo- 
rial work  of  the  World's  Fair  for  the  promotion  of  science  and  art, 
under  competent  editorial  supervision. 

(10)  That  an  appropriation  of  $200,000  be  made  to  cover  expenses 
of  the  Department  of  Congresses,  of  which  sum  $130,000  be  specific- 
ally appropriated  for  an  International  Congress  of  Arts  and  Science, 
and  the  remainder  to  cover  all  expenses  connected  with  the  publica- 
tion of  the  proceedings  of  said  International  Congress  of  Arts  and 
Science,  and  the  expenses  for  promotion  of  all  other  congresses. 

In  addition  to  the  foregoing  recommendations,  Professor 
Miinsterberg  was  requested  at  his  earhest  convenience  to 
furnish  each  member  with  a  revised  plan  of  his  classifica- 
tion, which  would  reduce  as  far  as  possible  the  number  of 
sections  into  which  the  Congress  was  finally  to  be  divided. 

With  the  adjournment  of  the  board  on  January  19  the 
Congress  may  be  fairly  said  to  have  been  launched  upon 
its   definite  course,   and   such   changes   as   were   thereafter 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS     xxvii 

made  in  the  programme  did  not  in  any  wise  affect  the 
principle  upon  which  the  Congress  was  based,  but  were 
due  to  the  demands  of  time,  of  expediency,  and  in  some 
cases  to  the  accidents  attending  the  participation.  The 
organization  of  the  Congress  and  the  personnel  of  its 
officers  from  this  time  on  remained  unchanged,  and  the 
history  of  the  meeting  is  one  of  steady  and  progressive 
development.  The  Committee  on  Plan  and  Scope  were 
discharged  of  their  duties,  with  a  vote  of  thanks  for  the 
laborious  and  painstaking  work  which  they  had  accom- 
plished and  the  thoroughly  scientific  and  novel  plan  for 
an  international  congress  which  they  had  recommended. 

PARTICIPATION    AND    SUPPORT 

The  general  plan  of  the  Congress  having  been  de- 
termined and  the  programme  practically  perfected  by  May 
1,  1903,  two  most  important  questions  demanded  the  at- 
tention of  the  Administrative  Board:  first,  the  participa- 
tion in  the  Congress,  both  foreign  and  domestic;  second, 
the  support  of  the  scientific  public.  At  a  meeting  of  the 
Board  held  in  New  York  City  April  11,  1903,  these  points 
were  orjven  full  consideration.     It  was  determined  that  the 

o 

list  of  speakers  both  foreign  and  domestic  should  be  made 
upon  the  advice  of  men  of  letters  and  of  scientific  thought 
in  this  country,  and  accordingly  there  was  sent  to  the  offi- 
cers of  the  various  scientific  societies  in  the  United  States, 
to  heads  of  university  departments  and  to  every  prominent 
exponent  of  science  and  art  in  this  country,  a  printed  an- 
nouncement and  tentative  programme  of  the  Congress,  and 
a  letter  asking  advice  as  to  the  scientists  best  fitted  in  view 
of  the  object  of  the  Congress  to  prepare  an  address.  From 
the  hundreds  of  replies  received  in  response  to  this  appeal 
were  made  up  the  original  lists  of  invited  speakers,  and 
only  those  were  placed  thereon  who  were  the  choice  of  a 


XXVIII    THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

fair  majority  of  the  representatives  of  the  particular  science 
under  selection.  The  Administrative  Board  resen-ed  to 
itself  the  full  right  to  reject  any  of  these  names  or  to 
change  them  so  as  to  promote  the  best  interests  of  the 
Congress,  but  in  nearly  every  instance  it  would  be  safe  to 
say  that  the  person  selected  was  highly  satisfactory  to  the 
great  majority  of  his  fellow  scientists  in  this  country. 
Many  changes  were  unavoidably  made  at  the  last  moment 
to  meet  the  situation  caused  by  withdrawals  and  declina- 
tions, but  the  list  of  second  choices  was  so  complete,  and 
in  many  cases  there  was  such  a  delicate  balance  between 
the  first  and  second  choice,  that  there  was  no  difficulty  in 
keeping  the  standard  of  the  programme  to  its  original  high 
plane. 

It  was  early  determined  that  the  seven  Division  speakers 
and  the  forty-eight  Department  speakers,  which  occupied 
the  first  two  days  of  the  programme,  should  be  Americans, 
and  that  these  Division  and  Department  addresses  should 
be  a  contribution  of  American  scholarship  to  the  general 
scientific  thought  of  the  world.  This  decision  commended 
itself  to  the  scientific  public  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and 
it  was  so  carried  out.  It  was  further  determined  that  the 
Division  and  Department  speakers  and  the  foreign  speak- 
ers should  be  selected  during  the  summer  of  1903,  and  the 
American  participation  in  the  Section  addresses  should  be 
determined  after  it  was  definitely  known  what  the  foreign 
participation  would  be.  In  view  of  the  importance  of  the 
Congress,  it  was  deemed  inadvisable  to  attempt  to  interest 
foreign  scientific  circles  by  correspondence,  and  it  was 
further  decided  to  pay  a  special  compliment  to  each  invited 
speaker  by  sending  an  invitation  at  the  hands  of  special 
delegates.  Arrangements  were  therefore  made  for  Dr. 
Newcomb  and  Professors  MiJnsterberg  and  Small  to  pro- 
ceed to  Europe  during  the  summer  of  1903,  and  to  present 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS      xxix 

in  person  to  the  scientific  circles  of  Europe  and  to  the 
scientists  specially  desired  to  deliver  addresses  the  com- 
plete plan  and  scope  of  the  Congress  and  an  invitation  to 
particinate. 

INVITATIONS  TO   FOREIGN    SPEAKERS 

The  members  of  the  Organizing  Committee,  armed  with 
very  strong  credentials  from  the  State  Department  to  the 
diplomatic  service  abroad,  sailed  in  the  early  summer  of 
1903  to  present  the  invitation  of  the  Exposition  to  the 
selected  scientists.  Dr.  Newcomb  sailed  May  6,  Professor 
Miinsterberg  May  30,  and  Professor  Small  June  6.  A 
general  interest  in  the  project  had  at  this  time  become 
aroused,  and  there  was  assured  a  respectful  hearing.  Both 
the  President  of  the  United  States  and  the  Emperor  of 
Germany  expressed  their  warm  interest  in  the  plan,  and 
the  State  Department  at  Washington  gave  to  the  Congress 
both  on  this  occasion  and  on  succeeding  occasions  its  effect- 
ive aid.  The  Director  of  Congresses  wishes  to  express  his 
obligations  both  to  the  late  Secretary  Hay  and  to  Assist- 
ant-Secretary Loomis  for  their  valuable  suggestions  and 
courteous  cooperation  in  all  matters  relating  to  the  foreign 
participation.  Strong  support  was  also  given  the  Com- 
mittee and  the  plan  of  the  Congress  by  Commissioner- 
General  Lewald  of  Germany,  and  Commissioner-General 
Lagrave  of  France.  Throughout  the  entire  Congress 
period,  both  of  these  energetic  Commissioners-General 
placed  themselves  actively  at  the  disposition  of  the  Depart- 
ment in  promoting  the  attendance  of  scientists  from  their 
respective  countries. 

Geographically  the  division  between  the  three  members 
of  the  Organizing  Committee  gave  to  Dr.  Newcomb, 
France;  to  Professor  Miinsterberg,  Germany,  Austria,  and 
Switzerland ;   and   to    Professor   Small,    England,    Russia, 


XXX       THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

Italy,  and  a  part  of  Austria.  It  was  also  agreed  that  Dr. 
Newcomb  should  have  special  oversight  of  the  depart- 
ments of  ]Mathematics,  Physics,  Astronomy,  Biology,  and 
Technology;  Professor  Miinsterberg,  special  charge  of 
Philosophy,  Philology,  Art,  Education,  Psychology,  and 
Medicine;  and  that  Professor  Small  should  look  after 
Politics,  Law,  Economics,  Theology,  Sociology,  and  Re- 
ligion. The  Committee  worked  independently  of  each 
other,  but  met  once  during  the  summer  at  ISIunich  to 
compare  results  and  to  determine  their  closing  movements. 

The  public  and  even  the  Exposition  authorities  have 
probably  never  realized  the  delicacy  and  the  extremely 
careful  adjustment  exercised  by  the  Organizing  Committee 
in  their  summer's  campaign.  Scientists  are  as  a  class  sen- 
sitive, jealous  of  their  reputations,  and  loath  to  undertake 
long  journeys  to  a  distant  country  for  congress  purposes. 
The  amount  of  labor  devolving  upon  the  Committee  to  find 
the  scientists  scattered  over  all  Europe;  the  careful  and 
pains-taking  presentation  to  each  of  the  plan  of  the  Con- 
gress ;  the  appeal  to  their  scientific  pride ;  the  hearing  of 
a  thousand  objections,  and  the  answering  of  each;  the 
disappointments  incurred ;  the  substitutions  made  neces- 
sary at  the  last  moment ; — all  sum  up  a  task  of  the  greatest 
difficulty  and  of  enormous  labor.  The  remarkable  success 
with  which  the  mission  was  crowned  stands  out  the  more 
prominently  in  view  of  these  conditions.  When  the  Com- 
mittee returned  in  the  latter  part  of  September,  they  had 
visited  every  important  country  of  Europe,  delixered  more 
than  one  hundred  fifty  personal  invitations,  and  for  the 
one  hundred  twenty-eight  sections  had  secured  one  hundred 
seventeen  acceptances. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Administrative  Board,  which  met 
with  the  Organizing  Committee  on  October  13,  1903,  a 
full   report  of  the  European  trip  was  received  and   ways 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS      xxxi 

and  means  considered  for  insuring  the  attendance  from 
abroad.  A  list  of  the  foreign  acceptances  was  ordered 
printed  at  once  for  general  distribution,  and  the  Chairman 
of  the  Administrative  Board  was  requested  to  address  a 
letter  to  each  of  the  foreign  scientists  confirming  the  action 
of  the  special  delegates  and  giving  additional  information 
as  to  the  length  of  addresses,  and  rules  and  details  govern- 
ing the  administration  of  the  Congress. 

ASSEMBLY    HALLS 

The  highly  diversified  nature  of  the  Congress  and  the 
holding  of  one  hundred  twenty-eight  section  meetings  in 
four  days'  time  rendered  necessary  a  large  number  of 
meeting-places  centrally  located.  The  Exposition  was 
fortunate  in  having  the  use  of  the  new  plant  of  the  Wash- 
ington University,  nine  large  buildings  of  which  had  been 
erected.  IMany  of  these  buildings  contained  lecture  halls 
and  assembly  rooms,  seating  from  one  hundred  fifty  to 
fifteen  hundred  people.  Sixteen  halls  were  necessary  to 
accommodate  the  full  number  of  sections  running  at  any 
one  time,  and  of  this  number  twelve  were  available  in  the 
group  of  University  Buildings;  the  other  four  were  found 
in  the  lecture  halls  of  the  Education  Building,  Mines  and 
Metallurgy  Building,  Agriculture  Building,  and  the  Trans- 
portation Building.  The  opening  exercises,  at  which  the 
entire  Congress  was  assembled,  was  held  in  Festival  Hall, 
capable  of  seating  three  thousand  people.  In  the  assign- 
ment of  halls  care  was  taken  so  far  as  possible  to  assign 
the  larger  halls  to  the  more  popular  subjects,  but  it  often 
happened  that  a  great  speaker  was  of  necessity  assigned  to 
a  smaller  hall.  Two  of  the  halls  also  proved  bad  for  speak- 
ing owing  to  the  traffic  of  the  Intramural  Railway,  and 
there  was  lacking  in  nearly  all  of  the  halls  that  academic 
peace  and  quiet  which  usually  surrounds  gatherings  of  a 


XXXII    THK  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

scientific  nature.  This,  however,  was  to  be  expected  in 
an  exposition  atmosphere,  and  was  readily  acquiesced  in 
by  the  speakers  themselves,  and  very  little  objection  was 
heard  to  the  halls  as  assigned.  Every  one  seemed  to 
recognize  the  fact  that  the  immediate  value  of  the  meeting 
lay  in  the  commingling  and  fellowship,  and  that  the  ad- 
dresses, of  which  one  could  hear  at  most  only  one  in  six- 
teen, could  not  be  judged  in  the  proper  light  until  their 
publication. 

OPENING    OF    THE    CONGRESS 

The  assembling  of  the  Congress  on  the  afternoon  of 
September  19,  in  the  magnificent  auditorium  of  Festival 
Hall  which  crowned  Cascade  Hill  and  the  Terrace  of 
States,  was  marked  with  simple  ceremonies  and  impressive 
dignity.  The  great  organ  pealed  the  national  hymns  of 
the  countries  participating  and  closed  with  the  national 
anthem  of  the  United  States.  In  the  audience  were  the 
members  of  the  Congress  representing  the  selected  talent 
of  the  world  in  their  field  of  scientific  endeavor,  and  about 
them  were  grouped  an  audience  drawn  from  every  part 
of  the  United  States  to  promote  by  their  presence  the  suc- 
cess of  the  Congress  and  to  do  honor  to  the  noted  person- 
ages who  were  the  guests  of  the  Exposition  and  of  the 
Nation. 

In  conclusion,  the  editor  wishes  to  express  his  obliga- 
tions to  the  many  speakers  and  officers  of  the  Congress, 
who  have  evinced  great  interest  in  the  publication  and 
assisted  by  valuable  suggestions  and  advice.  In  particular, 
he  acknowledges  the  help  of  President  Butler  of  Columbia 
University,  Professor  Miinsterberg  of  Harvard  University, 
and  Professor  Small,  of  the  University  of  Chicago.  Ac- 
knowledgements are  with  justice  and  pleasure  made  to  the 
Committee  on  Congresses  of  the  Exposition,  and  the  able 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS   xxxiii 

chairman,  Hon.  Frederick  W.  Lehmann,  for  their  un- 
wavering and  prompt  support  on  all  matters  of  policy  and 
detail,  without  which  the  full  measure  of  success  could 
not  have  been  achieved.  To  the  efiicient  secretary  of  the 
Department  of  Congresses,  Mr.  James  Green  Cotchett,  an 
expression  of  obligation  is  due  for  his  indefatigable  labors 
during  the  Congress  period,  and  for  his  able  and  pains- 
taking work  in  compiling  the  detailed  records  of  this  pub- 
lication. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Expo- 
sition on  January  3,  1905,  there  was  unanimously  voted 
the  following  resolution,  recommended  by  the  Admin- 
istrative Board  and  approved  by  the  Committee  on  Con- 
gresses : — 

Moved:  that  a  vote  of  thanks  and  an  expression  of 
deepest  obligation  be  tendered  to  Dr.  Simon  Newcomb, 
President  of  the  Congress,  Prof.  Hugo  Miinsterberg,  vice- 
president  of  the  Congress,  and  Prof.  Albion  W.  Small, 
vice-president  of  the  Congress,  for  their  efficient,  thorough, 
and  comprehensive  work  in  connection  w^ith  the  programme 
of  the  Congress,  the  selection  and  invitation  of  speakers, 
and  the  attention  to  detail  in  its  execution.  That,  in  view 
of  the  enormous  amount  of  labor  devolving  upon  these 
three  gentlemen  for  the  past  eighteen  months,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  all  opportunities  for  literary  and  other  work  out- 
side their  college  departments,  an  honorarium  of  twenty- 
five  hundred  dollars  be  tendered  to  each  of  them. 

At  a  subsequent  meeting  the  following  resolution  was 
also  passed : — 

Moved:  that  the  Directors  of  the  Louisiana  Purchase 
Exposition  Company  place  upon  the  record  an  expression 
of  their  appreciation  of  the  invaluable  aid  so  freely  given 
by  the  Administrative  Board  of  the  Congress  of  Arts  and 
Science.     In  organization,  guidance,  and  results  the  Con- 


XXXIV    THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CONGRESS 

gress  was  the  most  notable  of  its  kind  in  history.  For 
the  important  part  performed  wisely  and  zealously  by  the 
Administrative  Board  the  Exposition  Management  extends 
this  acknowledgement. 

Summary  of  Expenses  of  the  Congress. 

Office    expenses $7,025  82 

Travel        3,847  24 

Exploitation,   Organizing  Committee  abroad     8,663  16 
Traveling  expenses,  American  Speakers    .     .  31,350 
Traveling   expenses,   Foreign    Speakers     .     .  49,000 

Honorariums 7,500 

Banquet 3,500 

Expenses  for  editing  proceedings      ....     5,875 

Estimated  cost  of  printing  proceedings     .     .  22,000  $138,761  22 


INTRODUCTORY    ADDRESS 

DELIVERED  AT  THE  OPENING   EXERCISES  AT  FESTIVAL  HALL 

BY    PROFESSOR    SIMON    NEWCOMB,    PRESIDENT 

OF    THE    CONGRESS 


THE  EVOLUTION   OF  THE   SCIENTIFIC 
INVESTIGATOR 

As  we  look  at  the  assemblage  gathered  in  this  hall,  com- 
prising so  many  names  of  widest  renown  in  every  branch 
of  learning, — we  might  almost  say  in  every  field  of  human 
endeavor, — the  first  inquiry  suggested  must  be  after  the 
object  of  our  meeting.  The  answer  is,  that  our  purpose 
corresponds  to  the  eminence  of  the  assemblage.  We  aim 
at  nothing  less  than  a  survey  of  the  realm  of  knowledge, 
as  comprehensive  as  is  permitted  by  the  limitations  of  time 
and  space.  The  organizers  of  our  Congress  have  honored 
me  with  the  charge  of  presenting  such  preliminary  view 
of  its  field  as  may  make  clear  the  spirit  of  our  undertaking. 

Certain  tendencies  characteristic  of  the  science  of  our 
day  clearly  suggest  the  direction  of  our  thoughts  most  ap- 
propriate to  the  occasion.  Among  the  strongest  of  these 
is  one  toward  laying  greater  stress  on  questions  of  the 
beginning  of  things,  and  regarding  a  knowledge  of  the 
laws  of  development  of  any  object  of  study  as  necessary 
to  the  understanding  of  its  present  form.  It  may  be  con- 
ceded that  the  principle  here  involved  is  as  applicable  in 
the  broad  field  before  us  as  in  a  special  research  into  the 
properties  of  the  minutest  organism.  It  therefore  seems 
meet  that  we  should  begin  by  inquiring  what  agency  has 
brought  about  the  remarkable  development  of  science  to 

1 


2  INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

which  the  world  of  to-day  bears  witness.  This  view  is 
recognized  in  the  i)lan  of  our  proceedings,  by  providing 
for  each  great  department  of  knowledge  a  review  of  its 
progress  during  the  century  that  has  elapsed  since  the  great 
event  commemorated  by  the  scenes  outside  this  hall.  But 
such  reviews  do  not  make  up  that  general  survey  of  science 
at  large  which  is  necessary  to  the  development  of  our 
theme,  and  which  must  include  the  action  of  causes  that 
had  their  origin  long  before  our  time.  The  movement 
which  culminated  in  making  the  nineteenth  century  ever 
memorable  in  history  is  the  outcome  of  a  long  series  of 
causes,  acting  through  many  centuries,  which  are  worthy 
of  especial  attention  on  such  an  occasion  as  this.  In  setting 
them  forth  we  should  avoid  laying  stress  on  those  visible 
manifestations  which,  striking  the  eye  of  every  beholder, 
are  in  no  danger  of  being  overlooked,  and  search  rather 
for  those  agencies  whose  activities  underlie  the  whole 
visible  scene,  but  w^hich  are  liable  to  be  blotted  out  of  sight 
by  the  very  brilliancy  of  the  results  to  which  they  have 
given  rise.  It  is  easy  to  draw  attention  to  the  wonderful 
qualities  of  the  oak;  but  from  that  very  fact,  it  may  be 
needful  to  point  out  that  the  real  wonder  lies  concealed 
in  the  acorn  from  which  it  grew. 

Our  inquiry  into  the  logical  order  of  the  causes  which 
have  made  our  civilization  what  it  is  to-day  will  be  facili- 
tated by  bringing  to  mind  certain  elementary  considera- 
tions— ideas  so  familiar  that  setting  them  forth  may  seem 
like  citing  a  body  of  truisms — and  yet  so  frefjuently  over- 
looked, not  only  individually,  but  in  their  relation  to  each 
other,  that  the  conclusion  to  which  they  lead  may  be  lost 
to  sight.  One  of  these  propositions  is  that  psychical  rather 
than  material  causes  are  those  which  we  should  regard  as 
fundamental  in  directing  the  development  of  the  social 
organism.     The  human  intellect  is  the  really  active  agent 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  3 

in  every  branch  of  endeavor, — the  primiim  mobile  of 
civihzation, —  and  all  those  material  manifestations  to 
which  our  attention  is  so  often  directed  are  to  be  regarded 
as  secondary  to  this  first  agency.  If  it  be  true  that  "  in 
the  world  is  nothing  great  but  man ;  in  man  is  nothing 
great  but  mind,"  then  should  the  keynote  of  our  discourse 
be  the  recognition  of  this  first  and  greatest  of  powers. 

Another  well-known  fact  is  that  those  applications  of 
the  forces  of  nature  to  the  promotion  of  human  welfare 
which  have  made  our  age  what  it  is,  are  of  such  compara- 
tively recent  origin  that  we  need  go  back  only  a  single 
century  to  antedate  their  most  important  features,  and 
scarcely  more  than  four  centuries  to  find  their  beginning. 
It  follows  that  the  subject  of  our  inquiry  should  be  the 
commencement,  not  many  centuries  ago,  of  a  certain  new 
form  of  intellectual  activity. 

Having  gained  this  point  of  view,  our  next  inquiry  will 
be  into  the  nature  of  that  activity,  and  its  relation  to  the 
stages  of  progress  which  preceded  and  followed  its  begin- 
ning. The  superficial  observer,  who  sees  the  oak  but  for- 
gets the  acorn,  might  tell  us  that  the  special  qualities  which 
have  brought  out  such  great  results  are  expert  scientific 
knowledge  and  rare  ingenuity,  directed  to  the  application 
of  the  powers  of  steam  and  electricity.  From  this  point 
of  view  the  great  inventors  and  the  great  captains  of  in- 
dustry were  the  first  agents  in  bringing  about  the  modern 
era.  But  the  more  careful  inquirer  will  see  that  the  work 
of  these  men  was  possible  only  through  a  knowledge  of 
the  laws  of  nature,  which  had  been  gained  by  men  whose 
work  took  precedence  of  theirs  in  logical  order,  and  that 
success  in  invention  has  been  measured  by  completeness 
in  such  knowledge.  WLile  giving  all  due  honor  to  the 
great  inventors,  let  us  remember  that  the  first  place  is  that 
of  the  great  investigators,  whose  forceful  intellects  opened 


4  INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

tlie  way  to  secrets  previously  hidden  from  men.  Let  it  be 
an  honor  and  not  a  reproach  to  these  men,  that  they  were 
not  actuated  by  the  love  of  gain,  and  did  not  keep  utilita- 
rian ends  in  view  in  the  pursuit  of  their  researches.  If  it 
seems  that  in  neglecting  such  ends  they  were  leaving  un- 
done the  most  important  part  of  their  work,  let  us  remem- 
ber that  nature  turns  a  forbidding  face  to  those  who  pay 
her  court  with  the  hope  of  gain,  and  is  responsive  only  to 
those  suitors  whose  love  for  her  is  pure  and  undefiled.  Not 
only  is  the  special  genius  required  in  the  investigator  not 
that  generally  best  adapted  to  applying  the  discoveries 
which  he  makes,  but  the  result  of  his  having  sordid  ends 
in  view  would  be  to  narrow  the  field  of  his  efforts,  and 
exercise  a  depressing  effect  upon  his  activities.  The  true 
man  of  science  has  no  such  expression  in  his  vocabulary  as 
"  useful  knowledge."  His  domain  is  as  wide  as  nature 
itself,  and  he  best  fulfills  his  mission  when  he  leaves  to 
others  the  task  of  applying  the  knowledge  he  gives  to  the 
world. 

We  have  here  the  explanation  of  the  well-known  fact 
that  the  functions  of  the  investigator  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
and  of  the  inventor  who  applies  these  laws  to  utilitarian 
purposes,  are  rarely  united  in  the  same  person.  If  the  one 
conspicuous  exception  which  the  past  century  presents  to 
this  rule  is  not  unique,  we  should  probably  have  to  go  back 
to  Watt  to  find  another. 

From  this  viewpoint  it  is  clear  that  the  primary  agent 
in  the  movement  which  has  elevated  man  to  the  masterful 
position  he  now  occupies,  is  the  scientific  investigator.  He 
it  is  whose  work  has  deprived  plague  and  pestilence  of 
their  terrors,  alleviated  human  suffering,  girdled  the  earth 
with  the  electric  wire,  bound  the  continent  with  the  iron 
way.  and  made  neighbors  of  the  most  distant  nations.  As 
the  first  agent  which  has  made  possible  this  meeting  of 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  6 

his  representatives,  let  his  evolution  be  this  day  our  worthy 
theme.  As  we  follow  the  evolution  of  an  organism  by 
studying  the  stages  of  its  growth,  so  we  have  to  show  how 
the  work  of  the  scientific  investigator  is  related  to  the 
ineffectual  efforts  of  his  predecessors. 

In  our  time  we  think  of  the  process  of  development  in 
nature  as  one  going  continuously  forward  through  the  com- 
bination of  the  opposite  processes  of  evolution  and  dissolu- 
tion. The  tendency  of  our  thought  has  been  in  the  direc- 
tion of  banishing  cataclysms  to  the  theological  limbo,  and 
viewing  nature  as  a  sleepless  plodder,  endowed  with  infinite 
patience,  waiting  through  long  ages  for  results.  I  do  not 
contest  the  truth  of  the  principle  of  continuity  on  which 
^this  view  is  based.  But  it  fails  to  make  known  to  us  the 
whole  truth.  The  building  of  a  ship  from  the  time  that 
her  keel  is  laid  until  she  is  making  her  way  across  the  ocean 
is  a  slow  and  gradual  process;  yet  there  is  a  cataclysmic 
epoch  opening  up  a  new  era  in  her  history.  It  is  the 
moment  when,  after  lying  for  months  or  years  a  dead, 
inert,  immovable  mass,  she  is  suddenly  endowed  with  the 
power  of  motion,  and,  as  if  imbued  with  life,  glides  into 
the  stream,  eager  to  begin  the  career  for  which  she  was 
designed. 

I  think  it  is  thus  in  the  development  of  humanity.  Long 
ages  may  pass  during  which  a  race,  to  all  external  observa- 
tion, appears  to  be  making  no  real  progress.  Additions 
may  be  made  to  learning,  and  the  records  of  history  may 
constantly  grow,  but  there  is  nothing  in  its  sphere  of 
thought,  or  in  the  features  of  its  life,  that  can  be  called 
essentially  new.  Yet,  nature  may  have  been  all  along 
slowly  working  in  a  way  which  evades  our  scrutiny  until 
the  result  of  her  operations  suddenly  appears  in  a  new  and 
revolutionary  movement,  carrying  the  race  to  a  higher 
plane  of  civilization. 


6  INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

It  is  not  difficult  to  point  out  such  epochs  in  human 
progress.  The  greatest  of  all,  because  it  was  the  first,  is 
one  of  which  we  find  no  record  either  in  written  or  geo- 
logical history.  It  was  the  epoch  when  our  progenitors 
first  took  conscious  thought  of  the  morrow,  first  used  the 
crude  weapons  which  nature  had  placed  within  their  reach 
to  kill  their  prey,  first  built  a  fire  to  warm  their  bodies  and 
cook  their  food.  I  love  to  fancy  that  there  was  some  one 
first  man,  the  Adam  of  evolution,  who  did  all  this,  and  who 
used  the  power  thus  acquired  to  show  his  fellows  how  they 
might  profit  by  his  example.  When  the  members  of  the 
tribe  or  community  which  he  gathered  around  him  began 
to  conceive  of  life  as  a  whole, — to  include  yesterday,  to- 
day, and  to-morrow  in  the  same  mental  grasp — to  think 
how  they  might  apply  the  gifts  of  nature  to  their  own 
uses, — a  movement  was  begun  which  should  ultimately 
lead  to  civilization. 

Long  indeed  must  have  been  the  ages  required  for  the 
development  of  this  rudest  primitive  community  into  the 
civilization  revealed  to  us  by  the  most  ancient  tablets  of 
Egypt  and  Assyria.  After  spoken  language  was  developed, 
and  after  the  rude  representation  of  ideas  by  visible  marks 
drawn  to  resemble  them  had  long  been  practiced,  some 
Cadmus  must  have  invented  an  alphabet.  When  the  use 
of  written  language  was  thus  introduced,  the  word  of  com- 
mand ceased  to  be  confined  to  the  range  of  the  human 
voice,  and  it  became  possible  for  master  minds  to  extend 
their  influence  as  far  as  a  written  message  could  be  carried. 
Then  were  communities  gathered  into  provinces;  provinces 
into  kingdoms ;  kingdoms  into  the  great  empires  of  an- 
tiquity. Then  arose  a  stage  of  civilization  which  we  find 
pictured  in  the  most  ancient  records. — a  stage  in  which 
men  were  governed  by  laws  that  were  perhaps  as  wisely 
adapted  to  their  conditions  as  our  laws  are  to  ours, — in 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  7 

which  tlic  phenomena  of  nature  were  rudely  observed,  and 
striking  occurrences  in  the  earth  or  in  tlie  heavens  recorded 
in  the  annals  of  the  nation. 

Vast  was  the  progress  of  knowledge  during  the  interval 
between  these  empires  and  the  century  in  which  modern 
science  began.  Yet,  if  I  am  right  in  making  a  distinction 
between  the  slow  and  regular  steps  of  progress,  each  grow- 
ing naturally  out  of  that  which  preceded  it,  and  the  en- 
trance of  the  mind  at  some  fairly  definite  epoch  into  an 
entirely  new  sphere  of  activity,  it  would  appear  that  there 
was  only  one  such  epoch  during  the  entire  interval.  This 
was  when  abstract  geometrical  reasoning  commenced,  and 
astronomical  observations  aiming  at  precision  were  re- 
corded, compared,  and  discussed.  Closely  associated  with 
it  must  have  been  the  construction  of  the  forms  of  logic. 
The  radical  difference  between  the  demonstration  of  a 
theorem  of  geometry  and  the  reasoning  of  every-day  life 
which  the  masses  of  men  must  have  practiced  from  the 
beginning,  and  w^hich  few  even  to-day  ever  get  beyond, 
is  so  evident  at  a  glance  that  I  need  not  dwell  upon  it. 
The  principal  feature  of  this  advance  is  that,  by  one  of 
those  antinomies  of  the  human  intellect  of  which  examples 
are  not  wanting  even  in  our  own  time,  the  development  of 
abstract  ideas  preceded  the  concrete  knowledge  of  natural 
phenomena.  When  we  reflect  that  in  the  geometry  of 
Euclid  the  science  of  space  was  brought  to  such  logical 
perfection  that  even  to-day  its  teachers  are  not  agreed  as 
to  the  practicability  of  any  great  improvement  upon  it,  we 
cannot  avoid  the  feeling  that  a  very  slight  change  in  the 
direction  of  the  intellectual  activity  of  the  Greeks  would 
have  led  to  the  beginning  of  natural  science.  But  it  would 
seem  that  the  very  purity  and  perfection  which  was  aimed 
at  in  their  system  of  geometry  stood  in  the  way  of  any 
extension  or  application  of  its  methods  and  spirit  to  the 


INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

field  of  nature.  One  example  of  this  is  worthy  of  atten- 
tion. In  modern  teaching  the  idea  of  magnitude  as  gen- 
erated by  motion  is  freely  introduced.  A  line  is  described 
by  a  moving  point;  a  plane  by  a  moving  line;  a  solid  by 
a  moving  plane.  It  may,  at  first  sight,  seem  singular  that 
this  conception  finds  no  place  in  the  Euclidian  system. 
But  we  may  regard  the  omission  as  a  mark  of  logical 
purity  and  rigor.  Had  the  real  or  supposed  advantages 
of  introducing  motion  into  geometrical  conceptions  been 
suggested  to  Euclid,  we  may  suppose  him  to  have  replied 
that  the  theorems  of  space  are  independent  of  time;  that 
the  idea  of  motion  necessarily  implies  time,  and  that,  in 
consequence,  to  avail  ourselves  of  it  would  be  to  introduce 
an  extraneous  element  into  geometry. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  the  contempt  of  the  ancient  phil- 
osophers for  the  practical  application  of  their  science, 
which  has  continued  in  some  form  to  our  own  time,  and 
which  is  not  altogether  unwholsome,  was  a  powerful  factor 
in  the  same  direction.  The  result  was  that,  in  keeping 
geometry  pure  from  ideas  which  did  not  belong  to  it,  it 
failed  to  form  what  might  otherwise  have  been  the  basis 
of  physical  science.  Its  founders  missed  the  discovery  that 
methods  similar  to  those  of  geometric  demonstration  could 
be  extended  into  other  and  wider  fields  than  that  of  space. 
Thus  not  only  the  development  of  applied  geometry,  but 
the  reduction  of  other  conceptions  to  a  rigorous  mathe- 
matical form  was  indefinitely  postponed. 

Astronomy  is  necessarily  a  science  of  observation  pure 
and  simple,  in  which  experiment  can  have  no  place  except 
as  an  auxiliary.  The  vague  accounts  of  striking  celestial 
phenomena  handed  down  by  the  priests  and  astrologers 
of  antiquity  were  followed  in  the  time  of  the  Greeks  by 
observations  having,  in  form  at  least,  a  rude  approach  to 
precision,  though  nothing  like  the  degree  of  precision  that 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  9 

the  astronomers  of  to-day  would  reach  with  the  naked  eye, 
aided  by  such  instruments  as  he  could  fashion  from  the 
tools  at  the  command  of  the  ancients. 

The  rude  observations  commenced  by  the  Babylonians 
were  continued  with  gradually  improving  instruments, — 
first  by  the  Greeks  and  afterward  by  the  Arabs, — but  the 
results  failed  to  afford  any  insight  into  the  true  relation 
of  the  earth  to  the  heavens.  What  was  most  remarkable 
in  this  failure  is  that,  to  take  a  first  step  forward  which 
would  have  led  on  to  success,  no  more  was  necessary  than 
a  course  of  abstract  thinking  vastly  easier  than  that  re- 
quired for  working  out  the  problems  of  geometry.  That 
space  is  infinite  is  an  unexpressed  axiom,  tacitly  assumed 
by  Euclid  and  his  successors.  Combining  this  with  the 
most  elementary  consideration  of  the  properties  of  the 
triangle,  it  would  be  seen  that  a  body  of  any  given  size 
could  be  placed  at  such  a  distance  in  space  as  to  appear 
to  us  like  a  point.  Hence  a  body  as  large  as  our  earth, 
which  was  known  to  be  a  globe  from  the  time  that  the 
ancient  Phoenicians  navigated  the  Mediterranean,  if  placed 
in  the  heavens  at  a  sufficient  distance,  would  look  like  a 
star.  The  obvious  conclusion  that  the  stars  might  be  bodies 
like  our  globe,  shining  either  by  their  own  light  or  by 
that  of  the  sun,  would  have  been  a  first  step  to  the  under- 
standing of  the  true  system  of  the  world. 

There  is  historic  evidence  that  this  deduction  did  not 
wholly  escape  the  Greek  thinkers.  It  is  true  that  the  critical 
student  will  assign  little  weight  to  the  current  belief  that 
the  vague  theory  of  Pythagoras — that  fire  was  at  the  center 
of  all  things — implies  a  conception  of  the  heliocentric 
theory  of  the  solar  system.  But  the  testimony  of  Archi- 
medes, confused  though  it  is  in  form,  leaves  no  serious 
doubt  that  Aristarchus  of  Samos  not  only  propounded  the 
view    that  the  earth   revolves  both   on   its   own   axis   and 


10  INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

around  the  sun.  but  that  he  correctly  removed  the  great 
stumbHng-block  in  the  way  of  this  theory  by  adding  that 
the  distance  of  the  fixed  stars  was  infinitely  greater  than 
the  dimensions  of  the  earth's  orbit.  Even  the  world  of 
philosophy  was  not  yet  ready  for  this  conception,  and,  so 
far  from  seeing  the  reasonableness  of  the  explanation,  we 
find  Ptolemy  arguing  against  the  rotation  of  the  earth  on 
grounds  which  careful  observations  of  the  phenomena 
around  him  would  have  shown  to  be  ill-founded. 

Physical  science,  if  we  can  apply  that  term  to  an  un- 
coordinated body  of  facts,  was  successfully  cultivated  from 
the  earliest  times.  Something  must  have  been  known  of 
the  properties  of  metals,  and  the  art  of  extracting  them 
from  their  ores  must  have  been  practiced,  from  the  time 
that  coins  and  medals  were  first  stamped.  The  properties 
of  the  most  common  compounds  were  discovered  by  al- 
chemists in  their  vain  search  for  the  philosopher's  stone, 
but  no  actual  progress  worthy  of  the  name  rewarded  the 
practitioners  of  the  black  art. 

Perhaps  the  first  approach  to  a  correct  method  was  that 
of  Archimedes,  who  by  much  thinking  worked  out  the  law 
of  the  lever,  reached  the  conception  of  the  centre  of  gravity, 
and  demonstrated  the  first  principles  of  hydrostatics.  It 
is  remarkable  that  he  did  not  extend  his  researches  into 
the  phenomena  of  motion,  whether  spontaneous  or  pro- 
duced by  force.  The  stationary  condition  of  the  human 
intellect  is  most  strikingly  illustrated  by  the  fact  that  not 
imtil  the  time  of  Leonardo  was  any  substantial  advance 
made  on  his  discovery.  To  sum  up  in  one  sentence  the 
most  characteristic  feature  of  ancient  and  medieval  science, 
we  see  a  notable  contrast  between  the  precision  of  thought 
implied  in  the  construction  and  demonstration  of  geo- 
metrical theorems  and  the  vague  indefinite  character  of 
the  ideas  of  natural  phenomena  generally,  a  contrast  which 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  11 

did  not  disappear  until  the  foundations  of  modern  science 
began  to  be  laid. 

We  should  miss  the  most  essential  i)oint  of  the  differ- 
ence between  medieval  and  modern  learning  if  we  looked 
upon  it  as  mainly  a  difference  either  in  the  precision  or 
the  amount  of  knowledge.  The  development  of  both  of 
these  qualities  would,  under  any  circumstances,  have  been 
slow  and  gradual,  but  sure.  We  can  hardly  suppose  that 
any  one  generation,  or  even  any  one  century,  would  have 
seen  the  complete  substitution  of  exact  for  inexact  ideas. 
Slowness  of  growth  is  as  inevitable  in  the  case  of  knowl- 
edge as  in  that  of  a  growing  organism.  The  most  essential 
point  of  difference  is  one  of  those  seemingly  slight  ones, 
the  importance  of  which  we  are  too  apt  to  overlook.  It 
was  like  the  drop  of  blood  in  the  wrong  place,  which  some 
one  has  told  us  makes  all  the  difference  between  a  phil- 
osopher and  a  maniac.  It  was  all  the  difference  betw^een 
a  living  tree  and  a  dead  one,  between  an  inert  mass  and 
a  growing  organism.  The  transition  of  knowledge  from 
the  dead  to  the  living  form  must,  in  any  complete  review 
of  the  subject,  be  looked  upon  as  the  really  great  event  of 
modern  times.  Before  this  event  the  intellect  was  bound 
down  by  a  scholasticism  which  regarded  knowledge  as  a 
rounded  whole,  the  parts  of  which  w^ere  written  in  books 
and  carried  in  the  minds  of  learned  men.  The  student  was 
taught  from  the  beginning  of  his  work  to  look  upon  author- 
ity as  the  foundation  of  his  beliefs.  The  older  the  authority 
the  greater  the  weight  it  carried.  So  effective  was  this 
teaching  that  it  seems  never  to  have  occurred  to  individual 
men  that  they  had  all  the  opportunities  ever  enjoyed  by 
Aristotle  of  discovering  truth,  with  the  added  advantage 
of  all  his  knowledge  to  begin  with.  Advanced  as  was  the 
development  of  formal  logic,  that  practical  logic  was  want- 
ing which  could  see  that  the  last  of  a  series  of  authorities, 


12  IXTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

every  one  of  which  rested  on  those  which  preceded  it,  could 
never  form  a  surer  foundation  for  any  doctrine  than  that 
supplied  by  its  original  propounder. 

The  result  of  this  view  of  knowledge  was  that,  although 
during  the  fifteen  centuries  following  the  death  of  the 
geometer  of  Syracuse  great  universities  were  founded  at 
which  generations  of  professors  expounded  all  the  learning 
of  their  time,  neither  professor  nor  student  ever  suspecting 
what  latent  possibilities  of  good  were  concealed  in  the  most 
familiar  operations  of  nature.  Every  one  felt  the  wind 
blow,  saw  water  boil,  and  heard  the  thunder  crash,  but 
never  thought  of  investigating  the  forces  here  at  play.  Up 
to  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century  the  most  acute  ob- 
server could  scarcely  have  seen  the  dawn  of  a  new  era. 

In  view  of  this  state  of  things,  it  must  be  regarded  as 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  facts  in  evolutionary  history 
that  four  or  five  men,  whose  mental  constitution  was  either 
typical  of  the  new  order  of  things  or  who  were  powerful 
agents  in  bringing  it  about,  were  all  born  during  the 
fifteenth  century,  four  of  them  at  least  at  so  nearly  the 
same  time  as  to  be  contemporaries. 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  whose  artistic  genius  has  charmed 
succeeding  generations,  was  also  the  first  practical  engineer 
of  his  time,  and  the  first  man  after  Archimedes  to  make  a 
substantial  advance  in  developing  the  laws  of  motion.  That 
the  world  was  not  prepared  to  make  use  of  his  scientific 
discoveries  does  not  detract  from  the  significance  which 
must  attach  to  the  period  of  his  birth. 

Shortly  after  him  was  born  the  great  navigator  whose 
bold  spirit  was  to  make  known  a  new  world,  thus  giving 
to  commercial  enterprise  that  impetus  which  was  so  power- 
ful an  agent  in  bringing  about  a  revolution  in  the  thoughts 
of  men. 

The  birth  of  Columbus  was  soon   followed  by  that  of 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  13 

Copernicus,  the  first  after  Aristarchus  to  demonstrate  the 
true  system  of  the  world.  In  him  more  than  in  any  of  his 
contemporaries  do  we  see  the  struggle  between  the  old 
forms  of  thought  and  the  new.  It  seems  almost  pathetic 
and  is  certainly  most  suggestive  of  the  general  view  of 
knowledge  taken  at  that  time  that,  instead  of  claiming 
credit  for  bringing  to  light  great  truths  before  unknown, 
he  made  a  labored  attempt  to  show  that,  after  all,  there 
was  nothing  really  new  in  his  system,  which  he  claimed 
to  date  from  Pythagoras  and  Philolaus.  In  this  connec- 
tion it  is  curious  that  he  makes  no  mention  of  Aristarchus, 
who  I  think  will  be  regarded  by  conservative  historians  as 
his  only  demonstrated  predecessor.  To  the  hold  of  the 
older  ideas  upon  his  mind  we  must  attribute  the  fact  that 
in  constructing  his  system  he  took  great  pains  to  make  as 
little  change  as  possible  in  ancient  conceptions. 

Luther,  the  greatest  thought-stirrer  of  them  all,  prac- 
tically of  the  same  generation  with  Copernicus,  Leonardo, 
and  Columbus,  does  not  come  in  as  a  scientific  investigator, 
but  as  the  great  loosener  of  chains  which  had  so  fettered 
the  intellect  of  men  that  they  dared  not  think  otherwise 
than  as  the  authorities  thought. 

Almost  coeval  with  the  advent  of  these  intellects  was  the 
invention  of  printing  with  movable  type.  Gutenberg  was 
born  during  the  first  decade  of  the  century,  and  his  asso- 
ciates and  others  credited  with  the  invention  not  many 
years  afterward.  If  we  accept  the  principle  on  which  I 
am  basing  my  argument,  that  we  should  assign  the  first 
place  to  the  birth  of  those  psychic  agencies  which  started 
men  on  new  lines  of  thought,  then  surely  was  the  fifteenth 
the  wonderful  century. 

Let  us  not  forget  that,  in  assigning  the  actors  then  born 
to  their  places,  we  are  not  narrating  history,  but  studying 
a  special  phase  of  evolution.     It  matters  not  for  us  that 


14  INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

no  university   invited  Leonardo  to  its  halls,   and  that  his 
science  was  valued  by  his  contemporaries  only  as  an  ad- 
junct to  the  art  of  engineering.     The  great  fact  still  is  that 
he  was  the  first  of  mankind  to  propound  laws  of  motion. 
It  is  not  for  anything  in  Luther's  doctrines  that  he  finds 
a  place  in  our  scheme.     No  matter  for  us   whether  they 
were  sound  or  not.     What  he  did  toward  the  evolution  of 
the  scientific  investigator  was  to  show  by  his  example  that 
a  man  might  question  the  best-established  and  most  vener- 
able authority  and  still  live — still  preserve  his  intellectual 
integrity — still  command  a  hearing  from  nations  and  their 
rulers.     It  matters  not  for  us  whether  Columbus  ever  knew 
that  he  had  discovered  a  new  continent.     His  work   was 
to  teach  that  neither  hydra,   chimera,  nor  abyss — neither 
divine    injunction    nor    infernal    machination — was    in   the 
way  of  men  visiting  every  part  of  the  globe,  and  that  the 
problem  of  conquering  the  world  reduced  itself  to  one  of 
sails  and  rigging,  hull  and  compass.     The  better  part  of 
Copernicus  was  to  direct  man  to  a  viewpoint  whence  he 
should  see  that  the  heavens  were  of  like  matter  with  the 
earth.     All  this  done,  the  acorn  was  planted  from  which 
the  oak  of  our  civilization  should  spring.     The  mad  quest 
for  gold  which  followed  the  discovery  of  Columbus,  the 
questionings,  which  absorbed  the  attention  of  the  learned, 
the  indignation  excited  by  the  seeming  vagaries  of  a  Para- 
celsus, the  fear  and  trembling  lest  the  strange  doctrine  of 
Copernicus  should  undermine  the  faith  of  centuries,  were 
all  helps  to  the  germination  of  the  seed — stimuli  to  thought 
which  urged  it  on  to  explore  the  new  fields  opening  up  to 
its  occupation.    This  given,  all  that  has  since  followed  came 
out  in  regular  order  of  development,  and  need  be  here  con- 
sidered only  in  those  phases  having  a  special  relation  to  the 
purpose  of  our  present  meeting. 

So  slow  was  the  growth  at  first  that  the  sixteenth  cen- 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  15 

tury  may  scarcely  have  recognized  the  inauguration  of  a 
new  era.  Torricelli  and  Benedetti  were  of  the  third  genera- 
tion after  Leonardo,  and  GaHleo,  the  first  to  make  a  sub- 
stantial advance  upon  his  theory,  was  born  more  than  a 
century  after  him.  Only  two  or  three  men  appeared  in  a 
generation  who,  working  alone,  could  make  real  progress 
in  discovery,  and  even  these  could  do  little  in  leavening 
the  minds  of  their  fellow  men  with  the  new  ideas. 

Up  to  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  an  agent 
which  all  experience  since  that  time  shows  to  be  necessary 
to  the  most  productive  intellectual  activity  was  wanting. 
This  was  the  attraction  of  like  minds,  making  suggestions 
to  each  other,  criticising,  comparing,  and  reasoning.  This 
element  was  introduced  by  the  organization  of  the  Royal 
Society  of  London  and  the  Academy  of  Sciences  of  Paris. 

The  members  of  these  two  bodies  seem  like  ingenious 
youth  suddenly  thrown  into  a  new  world  of  interesting 
objects,  the  purposes  and  relations  of  which  they  had  to 
discover.  The  novelty  of  the  situation  is  strikingly  shown 
in  the  questions  which  occupied  the  minds  of  the  incipient 
investigator.  One  natural  result  of  British  maritime  enter- 
prise was  that  the  aspirations  of  the  Fellows  of  the  Royal 
Society  were  not  confined  to  any  continent  or  hemisphere. 
Inquiries  were  sent  all  the  way  to  Batavia  to  know 
"whether  there  be  a  hill  in  Sumatra  which  burneth  con- 
tinually, and  a  fountain  which  runneth  pure  balsam  "  The 
astronomical  precision  with  which  it  seemed  possible  that 
physiological  operations  might  go  on  was  evinced  by  the 
inquiry  whether  the  Indians  can  so  prepare  that  stupefying 
herb  Datura  that  "  they  make  it  lie  several  days,  months, 
years,  according  as  they  will,  in  a  man's  body  without 
doing  him  any  harm,  and  at  the  end  kill  him  without 
missing  an  hour's  time."  Of  this  continent  one  of  the 
inquiries    was   whether    there   be   a    tree   in    Mexico    that 


l(i  INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

yields  water,  wine,  vinegar,  milk,  honey,  wax,  thread,  and 
needles. 

Among  the  problems  before  the  Paris  Academy  of 
Sciences  those  of  physiology  and  biology  took  a  prominent 
place.  The  distillation  of  compounds  had  long  been  prac- 
ticed, and  the  fact  that  the  more  spirituous  elements  of 
certain  substances  were  thus  separated  naturally  led  to  the 
question  whether  the  essential  essences  of  life  might  not 
be  discoverable  in  the  same  way.  In  order  that  all  might 
participate  in  the  experiments,  they  were  conducted  in  open 
session  of  the  Academy,  thus  guarding  against  the  danger 
of  any  one  member  obtaining  for  his  exclusive  personal  use 
a  possible  elixir  of  life.  A  wide  range  of  the  animal  and 
vegetable  kingdom,  including  cats,  dogs,  and  birds  of 
various  species,  were  thus  analyzed.  The  practice  of  dis- 
section was  introduced  on  a  large  scale.  That  of  the 
cadaver  of  an  elephant  occupied  several  sessions,  and  was 
of  such  interest  that  the  monarch  himself  was  a  spectator. 

To  the  same  epoch  with  the  formation  and  first  work 
of  these  two  bodies  belongs  the  invention  of  a  mathematical 
method  which  in  its  importance  to  the  advance  of  exact 
science  may  be  classed  with  the  invention  of  the  alphabet 
in  its  relation  to  the  progress  of  society  at  large.  The  use 
of  algebraic  symbols  to  represent  quantities  had  its  origin 
before  the  commencement  of  the  new  era,  and  gradually 
grew  into  a  highly  developed  form  during  the  first  two 
centuries  of  that  era.  But  this  method  could  represent 
quantities  only  as  fixed.  It  is  true  that  the  elasticity  in- 
herent in  the  use  of  such  symbols  permitted  of  their  being 
applied  to  any  and  every  quantity;  yet,  in  any  one  applica- 
tion, the  quantity  was  considered  as  fixed  and  definite.  But 
most  of  the  magnitudes  of  nature  are  in  a  state  of  con- 
tinual variation ;  indeed,  since  all  motion  is  variation,  the 
latter  is  a  universal  characteristic  of  all  phenomena.     No 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  17 

serious  advance  could  be  made  in  the  application  of  alge- 
braic language  to  the  expression  of  physical  phenomena 
until  it  could  be  so  extended  as  to  express  variation  in 
quantities,  as  well  as  the  quantities  themselves.  This  ex- 
tension, worked  out  independently  by  Newton  and  Leib- 
nitz, may  be  classed  as  the  most  fruitful  of  conceptions 
in  exact  science.  With  it  the  way  was  opened  for  the 
unimpeded  and  continually  accelerated  progress  of  the  last 
two  centuries. 

The  feature  of  this  period  which  has  the  closest  relation 
to  the  purpose  of  our  coming  together  is  the  seemingly 
unending  subdivision  of  knowledge  into  specialties,  many 
of  which  are  becoming  so  minute  and  so  isolated  that  they 
seem  to  have  no  interest  for  any  but  their  few  pursuers. 
Happily  science  itself  has  afforded  a  corrective  for  its  own 
tendency  in  this  direction.  The  careful  thinker  will  see 
that  in  these  seemingly  diverging  branches  common  ele- 
ments and  common  principles  are  coming  more  and  more 
to  light.  There  is  an  increasing  recognition  of  methods 
of  research,  and  of  deduction,  which  are  common  to  large 
branches,  or  to  the  whole  of  science.  We  are  more  and 
more  recognizing  the  principle  that  progress  in  knowledge 
implies  its  reduction  to  more  exact  forms,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  its  ideas  in  language  more  or  less  mathematical. 
The  problem  before  the  organizers  of  this  Congress  was, 
therefore,  to  bring  the  sciences  together,  and  seek  for  the 
unity  which  we  believe  underlies  their  infinite  diversity. 

The  assembling  of  such  a  body  as  now  fills  this  hall  was 
scarcely  possible  in  any  preceding  generation,  and  is  made 
possible  now  only  through  the  agency  of  science  itself. 
It  differs  from  all  preceding  international  meetings  by  the 
universality  of  its  scope,  which  aims  to  include  the  whole 
of  knowledge.  It  is  also  unique  in  that  none  but  leaders 
have  been  sought  out  as  members.    It  is  unique  in  that  so 


18  INTRODUCTORY  ADDRESS 

manv  lands  have  delegated  their  choicest  intellects  to  carry 
on  its  work.  They  come  from  the  country  to  which  our 
republic  is  indebted  for  a  third  of  its  territory,  including 
the  ground  on  which  we  stand;  from  the  land  which  has 
taught  us  that  the  most  scholarly  devotion  to  the  languages 
and  learning  of  the  cloistered  past  is  compatible  with  leader- 
ship in  the  practical  application  of  modern  science  to  the 
arts  of  life;  from  the  island  whose  language  and  literature 
have  found  a  new  field  and  a  vigorous  growth  in  this 
religion ;  from  the  last  seat  of  the  holy  Roman  Empire ; 
from  the  country  which,  remembering  a  monarch  who 
made  an  astronomical  observation  at  the  Greenwich  Ob- 
servatory, has  enthroned  science  in  one  of  the  highest 
places  in  its  government ;  from  the  peninsula  so  learned 
that  we  have  invited  one  of  its  scholars  to  come  and  tell 
us  of  our  own  language;  from  the  land  which  gave  birth 
to  Leonardo,  Galileo,  Torricelli,  Columbus,  Volta — what 
an  array  of  immortal  names ! — from  the  little  republic  of 
glorious  history  which,  breeding  men  rugged  as  its  eternal 
snowpeaks,  has  yet  been  the  seat  of  scientific  investigation 
since  the  day  of  the  Bernoullis ;  from  the  land  whose  heroic 
dwellers  did  not  hesitate  to  use  the  ocean  itself  to  protect 
it  against  invaders,  and  which  now  makes  us  marvel  at  the 
amount  of  erudition  compressed  within  its  little  area;  from 
the  nation  across  the  Pacific,  which,  by  half  a  century  of 
unequaled  progress  in  the  arts  of  life,  has  made  an 
important  contribution  to  evolutionary  science  through 
demonstrating  the  falsity  of  the  theory  that  the  most 
ancient  races  are  doomed  to  be  left  in  the  rear  of  the 
advancing  age — in  a  word,  from  every  great  centre  of 
intellectual  activity  on  the  globe  I  see  before  me  eminent 
representatives  of  that  world  advance  in  knowledge  which 
we  have  met  to  celebrate.  May  we  not  confidently  hope 
that  the  discussions  of  such  an  assemblage  will  prove  preg- 


THE  SCIENTIFIC  INVESTIGATOR  19 

nant  of  a  future  for  science  which  shall  outshine  even  its 
brilliant  past? 

Gentlemen  and  scholars  all !  You  do  not  visit  our  shores 
to  find  great  collections  in  which  centuries  of  humanity 
have  given  expression  on  canvas  and  in  marble  to  their 
hopes,  fears,  and  aspirations.  Nor  do  you  expect  institu- 
tions and  buildings  hoary  with  age.  But  as  you  feel  the 
vigor  latent  in  the  fresh  air  of  these  expansive  prairies, 
which  has  collected  the  products  of  human  genius  by  which 
we  are  here  surrounded^  and,  I  may  add,  brought  us 
together;  as  you  study  the  institutions  which  we  have 
founded  for  the  benefit,  not  only  of  our  own  people,  but 
of  humanity  at  large;  as  you  meet  the  men  wdio,  in  the 
short  space  of  one  century,  have  transformed  this  valley 
from  a  savage  w^ilderness  into  what  it  is  to-day — then  may 
you  find  compensation  for  the  want  of  a  past  like  yours 
by  seeing  with  prophetic  eye  a  future  world-power  of 
which  this  region  shall  be  the  seat.  If  such  is  to  be  the 
outcome  of  the  institutions  which  we  are  now  building  up, 
then  may  your  present  visit  be  a  blessing  both  to  your 
posterity  and  ours  by  making  that  pow-er  one  for  good  to 
all  mankind.  Your  deliberations  will  help  to  demonstrate 
to  us  and  to  the  w^orld  at  large  that  the  reign  of  law  must 
supplant  that  of  brute  force  in  the  relations  of  the  nations, 
just  as  it  has  supplanted  it  in  the  relations  of  individuals. 
You  will  help  to  show  that  the  war  which  science  is  now 
waging  against  the  sources  of  diseases,  pain,  and  misery 
offers  an  even  nobler  field  for  the  exercise  of  heroic  quali- 
ties than  can  that  of  battle.  We  hope  that  when,  after 
your  all  too  fleeting  sojourn  in  our  midst,  you  return  to 
your  own  shores,  you  will  long  feel  the  influence  of  the 
new  air  you  have  breathed  in  an  infusion  of  increased 
vigor  in  pursuing  your  varied  labors.  And  if  a  new  im- 
petus is  thus  given  to  the  great  intellectual  movement  of 


20  IXTRODUCTORV  ADDRESS 

the  past  century,  resulting:  not  only  in  promoting-  the  unifi- 
cation of  knowledge,  but  in  widening  its  field  through  new 
combinations  of  effort  on  the  part  of  its  votaries,  the  pro- 
jectors, organizers,  and  supporters  of  this  Congress  of  Arts 
and  Science  will  be  justified  of  their  labors. 


THE  VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY 

BY    WOODROW    WILSON 

[WooDROW  WrrsoN,  President  of  Princeton  University,  b.  Staunton, 
Virginia,  December  28,  1856.  A.B.  Princeton  University,  1879; 
A.M.  1882.  Pli.D.  Johns  Hopkins,  1886.  Litt.D.  Yale,  1901.  LL.D. 
Wake  Forest  College,  1887;  Tulane  University,  1897;  Johns  Hop- 
kins, 1901;  Rutgers  College,  1902;  University  of  Pennsylvania, 
1903;  Brown  University,  1903.  Post-graduate,  University  of  Vir- 
ginia and  Johns  Hopkins  University.  Associate  Professor  History 
and  Political  Economy,  Bryn  Mawr  College,  1885-88.  Professor 
History  and  Political  Economy,  Wesleyan  University,  1888-90. 
Professor  Jurisprudence  and  Politics,  Princeton  University,  since 
1890.  Member  American  Institute  of  Arts  and  Letters,  American 
Historical  Association,  American  Economic  Association,  Ameri- 
can Academy  Political  and  Social  Science,  American  Philosophi- 
cal Society,  Southern  History  Association.  Corresponding  Mem- 
ber Massachusetts  Historical  Society.  Author  of  Congressional 
Government;  An  Old  Master  and  Other  Essays;  George  Washing- 
ton; A  History  of  the  American  People.] 

We  have  seen  the  dawn  and  the  early  morning  hours 
of  a  new  age  in  the  writing  of  history,  and  the  morning  is 
now  broadening  about  us  into  day.  When  the  day  is  full 
we  shall  see  that  minute  research  and  broad  synthesis  are 
not  hostile  but  friendly  methods,  cooperating  toward  a 
common  end  which  neither  can  reach  alone.  No  piece 
of  history  is  true  when  set  apart  to  itself,  divorced  and 
isolated.  It  is  part  of  an  intricately  various  whole,  and 
must  needs  be  put  in  its  place  in  the  netted  scheme  of  events 
to  receive  its  true  color  and  estimation;  and  yet  it  must  be 
itself  individually  studied  and  contrived  if  the  whole  is  not 
to  be  weakened  by  its  imperfection.  Whole  and  part  are 
of  one  warp  and  woof.  I  think  that  we  are  in  a  temper 
to  realize  this  now,  and  to  come  to  happy  terms  of  harmony 
with  regard  to  the  principles  and  the  objects  which  we 
shall  hold  most  dear  in  the  pursuit  of  our  several  tasks. 

I  know  that  in  some  quarters  there  is  still  a  fundamental 
difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  aim  and  object  of  historical 

31 


22  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

wriiing.  Some  regard  history  as  a  mere  record  of  expe- 
rience, a  huge  memorandum  of  events,  of  the  things  done, 
attempted,  or  neglected  in  bringing  tlie  world  to  the  present 
stage  and  posture  of  its  affairs, — a  book  of  precedents  to 
which  to  turn  for  instruction,  correction,  and  reproof. 
Others  regard  it  as  a  book  of  interpretation,  rather,  in 
which  to  study  motive  and  the  methods  of  the  human  spirit, 
the  ideals  that  elevate  and  the  ideals  that  debase;  from 
which  we  are  to  derive  assistance,  not  so  much  in  action 
as  in  thought;  a  record  of  evolution,  in  which  we  are  not 
likely  to  find  repetitions,  and  in  reading  wdiich  our  inquiry 
should  be  of  processes,  not  of  precedents.  The  two  views 
are  not.  upon  analysis,  so  far  apart  as  they  at  first  appear 
to  be.  I  think  that  we  shall  all  agree,  upon  reflection  and 
after  a  little  explanation  of  the  terms  we  use,  that  what  we 
seek  in  history  is  the  manifestation  and  development  of 
the  human  spirit,  whether  we  seek  it  in  precedents  or  in 
processes. 

All  of  the  many  ways  of  writing  history  may  be  reduced 
to  two.  There  are  those  who  write  history,  as  there  are 
those  who  read  it,  only  for  the  sake  of  the  story.  Their 
study  is  of  plot,  their  narrative  goes  by  ordered  sequence 
and  seeks  the  dramatic  order  of  events ;  men  appear,  in 
their  view,  always  in  organized  society,  under  leaders  and 
subject  to  common  forces  making  this  way  or  that ;  details 
are  for  the  intensification  of  the  impression  made  by  the 
main  movement  in  mass ;  there  is  the  unity  and  the  epic 
progress  of  The  Decline  and  fall,  or  the  crowded  but 
always  ordered  composition  of  one  of  Macaulay's  can- 
vases ;  cause  and  effect  move  obvious  and  majestic  upon 
the  page,  and  the  story  is  of  the  large  force  of  nations. 
This  is  history  embodied  in  "events,"  centering  in  the  large 
transactions  of  epochs  or  of  peoples.  It  is  history  in  one 
kind,  upon  which  there  are  many  variants.     History  in  the 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY         23 

other  kind  devotes  itself  to  analysis,  to  interpretation,  to 
the  illumination  of  the  transactions  of  which  it  treats  by 
lights  let  in  from  every  side.  It  has  its  own  standard  of 
measurement  in  reckoning  transactions  great  and  small, 
bases  its  assessments,  not  upon  the  numbers  involved  or 
the  noise  and  reputation  of  the  day  itself  in  which  they 
occurred,  so  much  as  upon  their  intrinsic  significance,  seen 
now  in  after  days,  as  an  index  of  what  the  obscure  men  of 
the  mass  thought  and  endured,  indications  of  the  forces 
making  and  to  be  made,  the  intimate  biography  of  daily 
thought.  Here  interest  centres,  not  so  much  in  what  hap- 
pened as  in  what  underlay  the  happening;  not  so  much  in 
the  tides  as  in  the  silent  forces  that  lifted  them.  Economic 
history  is  of  this  quality,  and  the  history  of  religious  be- 
lief, and  the  history  of  literature,  where  it  traces  the  map 
of  opinion,  whether  in  an  age  of  certainty  or  in  an  age 
of  doubt  and  change. 

The  interest  of  history  in  both  kinds  is  essentially  the 
same.  Each  in  its  kind  is  a  record  of  the  human  spirit. 
In  one  sort  we  seek  that  spirit  manifested  in  action,  where 
effort  is  organized  upon  the  great  scale  and  leadership 
displayed.  It  stirs  our  pulses  to  be  made  aware  of  the 
mighty  forces,  whether  of  exaltation  or  of  passion,  that 
play  through  what  men  have  done.  In  the  other  sort  of 
history  we  seek  the  spirit  of  man  manifested  in  conception, 
in  the  quiet  tides  of  thought  and  emotion  making  up  the 
minor  bays  and  inlets  of  our  various  life  of  complex  cir- 
cumstance, in  the  private  accumulation  of  events  which  lie 
far  away  from  the  sound  of  drum  or  trumpet  and  constitute 
no  part  of  the  pomp  of  great  affairs.  The  interest  of 
human  history  is  that  it  is  human.  It  is  a  tale  that  moves 
and  quickens  us.  We  do  not  approach  it  as  we  approach 
the  story  of  nature.  The  records  of  geology,  stupendous 
and  venerable  as  they  are,  written  large  and  small,  with 


24  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

infinite  variety,  upon  the  faces  of  great  mountains  and  of 
shadowed  canons  or  in  the  fine  shale  of  the  valley,  buried 
deep  in  the  frame  of  the  globe  or  lying  upon  the  surface, 
do  not  hold  us  to  the  same  vivid  attention.  Human  history 
has  no  such  muniment  towers,  no  such  deep  and  ancient 
secrets,  no  such  mighty  successions  of  events  as  those  which 
the  geologist  explores;  but  the  geologist  does  not  stir  us 
as  the  narrator  of  even  the  most  humble  dealings  of  our 
fellow  men  can  stir  us.  And  it  is  so  with  the  rest  of  the 
history  of  nature.  Even  the  development  of  animal  life, 
though  we  deem  its  evolution  part  of  ours,  seems  remote, 
impersonal,  no  part  of  any  affair  that  we  can  touch  with 
controlling  impulse  or  fashion  to  our  pleasure.  It  is  the 
things  which  we  determine  which  most  deeply  concern  us, 
our  voluntary  life  and  action,  the  release  of  our  spirits  in 
thought  and  act.  If  the  philosophers  were  to  convince  us 
that  there  is  in  fact  no  will  of  our  own  in  any  matter,  our 
interest  in  the  history  of  mankind  would  slacken  and  utterly 
change  its  face.  The  ordered  sequences  of  nature  are  out- 
side of  us,  foreign  to  our  wills,  but  these  things  of  our 
own  touch  us  nearly. 

It  is  the  honorable  distinction  of  historical  writing  in 
our  day  that  it  has  become  more  broadly  and  intimately 
human.  The  instinct  of  the  time  is  social  rather  than 
political.  We  would  know  not  merely  how  law  and  gov- 
ernment proceed  but  also  how  society  breeds  its  forces,  how 
these  play  upon  the  individual,  and  how  the  individual 
affects  them.  Law  and  government  are  but  one  expression 
of  the  life  of  society.  They  are  regulative  rather  than 
generative,  and  historians  of  our  day  have  felt  that  in 
writing  political  and  legal  history  they  were  upon  the  sur- 
face only,  not  at  the  heart  of  affairs.  The  minute  studies 
of  the  specialist  have  been  brought  about,  not  merely  by 
the  natural  exigencies  of  the  German  seminar  method  of 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY  25 

instruction,  not  merely  by  the  fact  that  the  rising  tide  of 
doctors'  theses  has  driven  would-be  candidates  for  degrees 
to  the  high  and  dry  places,  after  all  the  rich  lowland  had 
been  covered,  but  also  by  a  very  profound  and  genuine 
change  of  view  on  the  part  of  the  masters  of  history  them- 
selves with  regard  to  what  should  be  the  distinctive  ma- 
terial of  their  study.  Before  our  modern  day  of  specializa- 
tion there  was  virtually  no  history  of  religion,  or  of  law, 
or  of  literature,  or  of  language,  or  of  art.  Fragments  of 
these  things  were,  of  course,  caught  in  the  web  of  the  old 
narratives,  but  the  great  writers  of  the  older  order  looked 
at  them  with  attention  only  when  they  emerged,  gross  and 
obvious,  upon  the  surface  of  affairs.  Law  was  part  of  the 
movement  of  politics  or  of  the  patent  economic  forces  that 
lay  near  the  interests  of  government.  Religion  was  not 
individual  belief,  but  as  it  were  the  politics  of  an  institu- 
tion, of  the  church,  which  was  but  the  state  itself  in  another 
guise.  Literature  concerned  them  only  as  it  became  the 
wind  of  opinion  beating  upon  the  laboring  ship  of  state, 
or  when  some  sudden  burst  of  song  gave  a  touch  of  im- 
aginative glory  to  the  domestic  annals  of  the  nation  which 
was  their  theme.  Art  came  within  their  view  only  when 
it  was  part  of  the  public  work  of  some  Pericles  or  became 
itself  part  of  the  intricate  web  of  politics,  as  in  the  Italian 
states  of  the  Renaissance.  Language  concerned  them  not 
at  all,  except  as  its  phrases  once  and  again  spoke  the  tem- 
per of  an  epoch  or  its  greater  variations  betokened  the  birth 
of  new  nations. 

And  all  this  because  their  interest  was  in  affairs  of  state, 
in  the  organized  and  coordinated  efforts  of  the  body  politic, 
in  opinions  and  influences  which  moved  men  in  the  mass 
and  governed  the  actions  of  kings  and  their  ministers  of 
state  at  home  and  abroad.  In  brief,  their  interest  was  in 
"  events."     It  is  curious  and  instructive  to  examine  what 


26  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

we  mean  by  that  much-used  word.  \\q  mean  always,  I 
take  it,  some  occurrence  of  large  circumstance, — no  private 
affair  transacted  in  a  corner,  but  something  observed  and 
open  to  the  public  view,  noticeable  and  known, — and  not 
fortuitous,  either,  but  planned,  concerted.  There  can, 
properly  speaking,  be  no  "  event  "  without  organized  ef- 
fort :  it  is  not  a  thing  of  the  individual.  Literature  is 
excluded,  by  definition,  and  art,  and  language,  and  much 
of  religion  that  is  grounded  in  unobserved  belief,  and  all 
the  obscure  pressure  of  economic  want.  A  history  of 
"  events  "  cannot  be  a  history  of  the  people ;  it  can  only 
be  a  history  of  the  life  of  the  body  politic,  of  the  things 
which  statesmen  observe  and  act  upon. 

The  specialist  has  taught  us  that  the  deepest  things  are 
often  those  which  never  spring  to  light  in  events,  and  that 
the  breeding-ground  of  events  themselves  lies  where  the 
historian  of  the  state  seldom  extends  his  explorations.  It 
is  not  true  that  a  community  is  merely  the  aggregate  of 
those  who  compose  it.  The  parts  are  so  disposed  among 
us  that  the  minority  governs  more  often  than  the  majority. 
But  influence  and  mastery  are  subtle  things.  They  pro- 
ceed from  forces  which  come  to  the  individual  out  of  the 
very  air  he  breathes:  his  life  is  compounded  as  the  lives 
of  those  about  him  are.  Their  lives  play  upon  his,  he 
knows  not  how,  and  the  opinion  he  enforces  upon  them  is 
already  more  than  half  their  own.  And  so  the  analysis 
of  the  life  of  the  many  becomes  part  of  the  analysis  of  the 
power  of  the  few — an  indispensable  part.  It  is  this  that 
the  specialist  sees.  He  sees  more.  He  sees  that  individual 
effort  as  well  as  aggregate  must  be  studied,  the  force  that 
is  in  the  man  as  well  as  the  air  that  is  in  the  community. 
The  men  who  give  voice  to  their  age  are  witnesses  to  more 
things  than  they  wot  of. 

Mr.  Ruskin,  in  the  preface  to  the  little  volume  on  Vene- 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY  27 

tian  art,  to  which  he  has  given  the  name  St.  Mark's  Rest, 
propounds  a  theory  which  will  illuminate  my  meaning. 
"  Great  nations,"  he  says,  "  write  their  autobiographies  in 
three  manuscripts, — the  book  of  their  deeds,  the  book  of 
their  words,  and  the  book  of  their  art.  Not  one  of  these 
books  can  be  understood  unless  we  read  the  two  others ; 
but  of  the  three  the  only  quite  trustworthy  one  is  the  last. 
The  acts  of  a  nation  may  be  triumphant  by  its  good  for- 
tune; and  its  words  mighty  by  the  genius  of  a  few  of  its 
children;  but  its  art  only  by  the  general  gifts  and  common 
sympathies  of  the  race.  Again,  the  policy  of  a  nation  may 
be  compelled,  and,  therefore,  not  indicative  of  its  true 
character.  Its  words  may  be  false,  while  yet  the  race  re- 
mains unconscious  of  their  falsehood ;  and  no  historian 
can  assuredly  detect  the  hypocrisy.  But  art  is  always  in- 
stinctive ;  and  the  honesty  or  pretense  of  it  are  therefore 
open  to  the  day.  The  Delphic  oracle  may  or  may  not  have 
been  spoken  by  an  honest  priestess, — we  cannot  tell  by  the 
words  of  it ;  a  liar  may  rationally  believe  them  a  lie.  such 
as  he  would  himself  have  spoken ;  and  a  true  man,  with 
equal  reason,  may  believe  them  spoken  in  truth.  But  there 
is  no  question  possible  in  art:  at  a  glance  (when  we  have 
learned  to  read),  we  know  the  religion  of  Angelico  to  be 
sincere,  and  of  Titian,  assumed." 

Whether  we  agree  with  all  the  dicta  of  this  interesting 
passage  or  not,  the  main  truth  of  it  is  plain.  It  is  to  be 
doubted  whether  tlic  "  genius  of  a  few  of  its  children  " 
suffices  to  gi\-e  a  nation  place  in  the  great  annals  of  litera- 
ture, and  literary  critics  would  doubtless  maintain  that  the 
book  of  a  nation's  words  is  as  naif  and  instinctive  as  the 
book  of  its  art.  Here,  too,  the  sincere  and  natural  is  easily 
to  be  distinguished  ("when  we  have  learned  to  read") 
from  the  sophisticated  and  the  artificial.  Plainly  the  auto- 
biography of  Benjamin   Franklin  is  separated  by  a  long 


28  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

age  from  the  autobiography  of  Benvenuto  CelHni,  and  the 
one  is  as  perfect  a  mirror  of  the  faith  of  the  man  and  the 
manner  of  the  age  as  the  other.  But  these  questions  are 
not  of  the  present  point.  Undoubtedly  the  book  of  a 
nation's  art  and  the  book  of  its  words  must  be  read  along 
with  the  book  of  its  deeds  if  its  life  and  character  are  to 
be  comprehended  as  a  whole ;  and  another  book,  besides, — 
the  book  of  its  material  life,  its  foods,  its  fashions,  its 
manufactures,  its  temperatures  and  seasons.  In  each  of 
these  great  books  the  historian  looks  for  the  same  thing : 
the  life  of  the  day,  the  impulses  that  underlie  government 
and  all  achievement,  all  art  and  all  literature,  as  well  as  all 
statesmanship. 

I  do  not  say  that  the  specialists  who  have  so  magnified 
their  office  m  our  day  have  been  conscious  of  this  ultimate 
synthesis.  Few  of  them  have  cared  for  it  or  believe  in  it. 
They  have  diligently  spent  their  intensive  labor  upon  a  few 
acres  of  ground,  with  an  exemplary  singleness  of  mind, 
and  have  displayed,  the  while,  very  naively,  the  provincial 
spirit  of  small  farmers.  But  a  nation  is  as  rich  as  its  sub- 
jects, and  this  intensive  farming  has  accumulated  a  vast 
store  of  excellent  food-stuffs.  No  doubt  the  work  would 
have  been  better  done  if  it  had  been  done  in  a  more 
catholic  spirit,  with  wider  sympathies,  amidst  horizons. 
The  broader  the  comprehension  the  more  intelligent  the 
insight.  But  we  must  not  ask  for  all  things  in  a  genera- 
tion or  expect  our  own  perfection  by  any  other  way  than 
the  familiar  processes  of  development. 

Perhaps  we  are  near  enough  the  time  of  synthesis  and 
coordination  to  see  at  least  the  organic  order  and  relation- 
ship of  the  several  special  branches  of  historical  inquiry 
which  have  been  grouped  in  this  Division  of  our  Congress. 
All  history  has  society  as  its  subject-matter;  what  we 
jx)nder  and  explore  is,  not  the  history  of  men,  but  the  his- 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY  29 

tory  of  man.  And  yet  our  themes  do  not  all  lie  equally 
close  to  the  organic  processes  of  society.  Those  processes 
are,  of  course,  most  prominent  in  political  and  economic 
history,  least  prominent,  perhaps,  in  the  history  of  lan- 
guage. I  venture  to  suggest  that  the  organic  order  is : 
Politics,  economics,  religion,  law,  literature,  art,  language. 
So  far  as  the  question  affects  religion  and  law,  I  must 
admit  that  I  am  not  clear  which  of  the  two  ought  to  take 
precedence, — in  modern  history,  certainly  law ;  but  most 
history  is  not  modern,  and  in  that  greater  part  which  is  not 
modern  clearly  religion  overcrows  law  in  the  organic,  social 
process. 

I  know  that  the  word  religion,  in  this  connection  as  in 
most  others,  is  of  vague  and  mixed  significance,  covering 
a  multitude  of  sins ;  but  so  far  as  my  present  point  is  con- 
cerned, it  is  easy  of  clarification.  Religion,  as  the  historian 
handles  it,  involves  both  a  history  of  institutions,  of  the 
church,  and  a  history  of  opinion.  As  a  history  of  opinion 
it  perhaps  lies  no  nearer  the  organic  processes  of  society 
than  does  the  history  of  literature;  but  from  the  beginning 
of  recorded  events  until  at  any  rate  the  breaking  up  of 
foundations  which  accompanied  and  followed  the  French 
Revolution,  it  concerns  the  church  as  an  institution  as 
definitely  as  the  history  of  politics,  with  its  various  records 
of  shifting  opinion,  concerns  the  state,  and  the  organic  life 
of  the  body  politic.  In  such  a  view,  religion  must  take 
precedence  of  law  in  the  organic  order  of  our  topics. 
From  the  remotest  times  of  classical  history,  when  church 
and  state,  priest  and  judge,  were  hardly  distinguishable, 
through  the  confused  Middle  Age,  in  which  popes  were 
oftentimes  of  more  authority  than  kings  and  emperors, 
down  to  the  modern  days,  when  priests  and  primates  were, 
by  very  virtue  of  their  oi^ce,  chief  politicians  in  the  plot 
of  public  policy,   the  church  has  unquestionably  played  a 


30  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

part  second  only  to  the  state  itself  in  the  organization  and 
government  of  society,  in  the  framing  of  the  public  life. 

Law  occupies  a  place  singular  and  apart.  Its  character 
is  without  parallel  in  our  list.  It  has  no  life  of  its  own 
apart  from  the  life  of  the  state,  as  religion  has,  or  litera- 
ture, or  art.  or  language.  Looked  at  as  the  lawyer  looks 
at  it.  it  is  merely  the  voice  of  the  state,  the  body  of  regula- 
tions set  by  government  to  give  order  to  the  competiti\e 
play  of  individual  and  social  forces.  Looked  at  from  the 
historian's  point  of  view,  it  consists  of  that  part  of  the 
social  thought  and  habit  which  has  definitely  formed  itself, 
which  has  gained  universal  acquiescence  and  recognition, 
and  which  has  been  given  sanction  and  backing  of  the  state 
itself,  a  final  formulation  in  command.  In  either  case, 
whatever  its  origin,  whether  in  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  law- 
maker or  in  the  gradually  disclosed  and  accepted  conven- 
ience of  society,  it  comes,  not  independently  and  of  itself, 
but  through  the  mouth  of  governors  and  judges  and  is  itself 
a  product  of  the  state.  But  not  of  politics,  unless  we  speak 
of  public  law,  the  smaller  part,  not  of  private,  the  greater. 
The  forces  which  created  it  are  chiefly  economic,  or  else 
social,  bred  amidst  ideas  of  class  and  privilege.  It  springs 
from  a  thousand  fountains.  Statutes  do  not  contain  all 
of  it;  and  statutes  are  themselves,  when  soundly  conceived, 
but  generalizations  of  experience.  The  truth  is  that,  while 
law  gets  its  formulation  and  its  compulsive  sanction  from 
the  political  governors  of  the  state,  its  real  life  and  source 
lie  hidden  amidst  all  of  the  various  phenomena  which  his- 
torians are  called  upon  to  explore.  It  belongs  high  in  the 
list  I  have  made,  because  it  so  definitely  takes  its  form 
from  the  chief  organ  of  society. 

To  put  literature  before  art  in  the  organic  order  I  have 
suggested,  is  not  to  deny  Mr.  Ruskin's  dictum,  that  art 
more  than  literature  comes  "  by  the  general  gifts  and  com- 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY  31 

mon  sympathies  of  the  race,"  by  instinct  rather  than  by 
deliberation ;  it  is  only  to  say  that  more  of  what  is  passing 
through  a  nation's  tliought  is  expressed  in  its  literature 
than  in  its  art.  As  a  nation  thinks  so  it  is ;  and  the  his- 
torian must  give  to  the  word  literature  a  wider  significance 
than  the  critic  would  vouchsafe,  tie  must  think  not  merely 
of  that  part  of  a  nation's  book  of  words  upon  which  its 
authors  have  left  the  touch  of  genius,  the  part  that  has 
been  made  immortal  by  the  transfiguring  magic  of  art, 
but  also  of  the  cruder  parts  which  have  served  their  pur- 
pose and  now  lie  dead  upon  the  page, — the  fugitive  and 
ephemeral  pamphlets,  the  forgotten  controversies,  the  dull, 
thin  prose  of  arguments  long  ago  concluded,  old  letters, 
futile  and  neglected  pleas, — whatever  may  seem  to  have 
played  through  the  thought  of  older  days. 

Of  the  history  of  language  I  speak  with  a  great  deal  of 
diffidence.  My  own  study  of  it  was  of  narrow  scope  and 
antedated  all  modern  methods.  But  I  know  what  interest 
it  has  for  the  historian  of  life  and  opinion ;  I  know  how 
indispensable  its  help  is  in  deciphering  race  origins  and 
race  mixtures ;  I  know  what  insight  it  affords  into  the 
processes  of  intellectual  development;  I  know  what  subtle 
force  it  has  had  not  only  in  moulding  men's  thoughts,  but 
also  their  acts  and  their  aspirations  after  the  better  things 
of  hope  and  purpose.  I  know  how  it  mirrors  national  as 
well  as  individual  genius.  And  I  know  that  all  of  these 
data  of  organic  life,  whether  he  take  them  at  first  hand 
or  at  second,  throw  a  clarifying  light  upon  many  an 
obscure  page  of  the  piled  records  that  lie  upon  the  his- 
torian's table.  I  fancy  that  the  historian  who  intimately 
uses  the  language  of  the  race  and  people  of  w4iich  he  writes 
somehow  gets  intimation  of  its  origin  and  history  into  his 
ear  and  thought  whether  he  be  a  deliberate  student  of  its 
development  or  not;  but  be  that  as  it  may,  the  historian 


32  HISTORICAL  SCIEx\CE 

of  language  stands  at  his  elbow,  if  he  will  but  turn  to  him, 
with  many  an  enlightening  fact  and  suggestion  which  he 
can  ill  afford  to  dispense  withal.  It  is  significant,  as  it  is 
interesting,  that  the  students  of  language  have  here  been 
definitely  called  into  the  company  of  historians.  May  the 
alliance  be  permanent  and  mutually  profitable! 

My  moral  upon  the  whole  list  is,  that,  separated  though 
we  may  be  by  many  formal  lines  of  separation,  sometimes 
insisted  on  with  much  pedantic  punctilio,  we  are  all  part- 
ners in  a  common  undertaking,  the  illumination  of  the 
thoughts  and  actions  of  men  as  associated  in  society,  the 
life  of  the  human  spirit  in  this  familiar  theatre  of  co- 
operative effort  in  which  we  play,  so  changed  from  age  to 
age  and  yet  so  much  the  same  throughout  the  hurrying 
centuries.  Some  of  the  subjects  here  grouped  may  stand 
high  in  the  list  of  organic  processes,  others  affect  them  less 
vigorously  and  directly;  but  all  are  branches  and  parts  of 
the  life  of  society.  In  one  of  the  great  topics  we  deal  with 
there  is,  I  know,  another  element  which  sets  it  quite  apart 
to  a  character  of  its  own.  The  history  of  religion  is  not 
merely  the  history  of  social  forces,  not  merely  the  history 
of  institutions  and  of  opinions.  It  is  also  the  history  of 
something  which  transcends  our  divination,  escapes  our 
analysis, — the  power  of  God  in  the  life  of  men.  God  does, 
indeed,  deal  with  men  in  society  and  through  social  forces, 
but  he  deals  with  him  also  individually,  as  a  single  soul, 
not  lost  in  society  or  impoverished  of  his  individual  will 
and  responsibility  by  his  connection  with  the  lives  of  other 
men,  but  himself  sovereign  and  lonely  in  the  choice  of  his 
destiny.  This  singleness  of  the  human  soul,  this  several 
right  and  bounden  duty  of  individual  faith  and  choice,  to 
be  exercised  oftentimes  in  contempt  and  defiance  of  society, 
is  a  thing  no  man  is  likely  to  overlook  who  has  noted  the 
genesis  of  our  modern  liberty  or  assessed   the   forces  of 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY  33 

reform  and  regeneration  which  have  lifted  us  to  our  present 
enhghtenment ;  and  it  introduces  into  the  history  of  re- 
ligion, at  any  rate  since  the  day  of  Christ,  the  master  of 
free  souls,  an  element  which  plays  upon  society  like  an 
independent  force,  like  no  native  energy  of  its  own.  This, 
nevertheless,  like  all  things  else  that  we  handle,  comes 
into  the  sum  of  our  common  reckoning  when  we  would 
analyze  the  life  of  men  as  manifested  in  the  book  of  their 
deeds,  in  the  book  of  their  words,  in  the  book  of  their  art, 
or  in  the  book  of  their  material  arts,  consumption,  needs, 
desires;  and  the  product  is  still  organic.  Men  play  upon 
one  another  whether  as  individual  souls  or  as  political  and 
economic  partners. 

What  the  specialist  has  discovered  for  us,  whether  he 
has  always  discovered  it  for  himself  or  not,  is,  that  this 
social  product  which  we  call  history,  though  produced  by 
the  interplay  of  forces,  is  not  always  produced  by  definite 
organs  or  by  deliberation:  that,  though  a  joint  product, 
it  is  not  always  the  result  of  concerted  action.  He  has 
laid  bare  to  our  view  particular,  minor,  confluent  but  not 
conjoint  influences,  which,  if  not  individual,  are  yet  not 
deliberately  cooperative,  but  the  unstudied,  ungeneraled, 
scattered,  unassembled,  it  may  be  even  single  and  individ- 
ual expression  of  motives,  conceptions,  impulses,  needs, 
desires,  which  have  no  place  within  the  ordered,  corporated 
ranks  of  such  things  as  go  by  legislation  or  the  edicts  of 
courts,  by  resolutions  of  synods  or  centred  mandates  of 
opinion,  but  spring  of  their  own  spontaneous  vigor  out  of 
the  unhusbanded  soil  of  unfenced  gardens,  the  crops  no 
man  had  looked  for  or  made  ready  to  reap.  Though  all 
soils  from  which  human  products  suck  their  sustenance 
must  no  doubt  lie  within  the  general  sovereignty  of  society, 
and  no  man  is  masterless  in  our  feudal  moral  system,  these 
things  which  have  come  to  light  by  the  labor  of  those  who 


34  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

have  scrutinized  the  detail  of  our  Hves  for  things  neglected 
have  not  been  produced  within  the  immediate  demesnes  of 
the  crown.  Historians  who  ponder  public  policy  only,  and 
only  the  acts  of  those  who  make  and  administer  law  and 
determine  the  relationships  of  nations,  like  those  who  fol- 
low only  tiie  main  roads  of  literature  and  study  none  but 
the  greater  works  of  art,  have  therefore  passed  them  by 
unheeded,  and  so,  undoubtedly,  have  missed  some  of  the 
most  interesting  secrets  of  the  very  matters  they  had  set 
themselves  to  fathom.  Individuals,  things  happening 
obscure  and  in  a  corner,  matters  that  look  like  incidents, 
accidents,  and  lie  outside  the  observed  movements  of  af- 
fairs, are  as  often  as  not  of  the  very  gist  of  controlling 
circumstances  and  will  be  found  when  fully  taken  to  pieces 
to  lie  at  the  very  kernel  of  our  fruit  of  memory. 

I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  the  work  of  the  specialist 
is  now  near  enough  to  being  accomplished,  his  discoveries 
enough  completed,  enough  advertised,  enough  explained, 
his  researches  brought  to  a  sufficient  point  of  perfection. 
I  daresay  he  is  but  beginning  to  come  into  his  kingdom : 
is  just  beginning  to  realize  that  it  is  a  kingdom,  and  not 
merely  a  congeries  of  little  plots  of  ground,  unrelated,  un- 
neighborly  even;  and  that  as  the  years  go  by  and  such 
studies  are  more  and  more  clarified,  more  and  more  wisely 
conceived,  this  minute  and  particular  examination  of  the 
records  of  the  human  spirit  will  yield  a  yet  more  illuminat- 
ing body  of  circumstances  and  serve  more  and  more  di- 
rectly and  copiously  for  the  rectification  of  all  history. 
What  I  do  mean,  and  what,  I  daresay,  I  am  put  here  to  pro- 
claim, is,  that  the  day  for  synthesis  has  come ;  that  no  one  of 
us  can  safely  go  forward  without  it ;  that  labor  in  all  kinds 
must  henceforth  depend  upon  it,  the  labor  of  the  specialists 
no  less  than  the  labor  of  the  general  historian  who  attempts 
the  broader  generalizations  of  comment  and  narrative. 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY  35 

In  the  English-speaking  world  we  have  very  recently 
witnessed  two  interesting  and  important  attempts  at  syn- 
thesis by  cooperation  in  Mr.  H.  D.  Traill's  Social  England 
and  Lord  Acton's  Cambridge  Modern  History,  the  one 
now  complete,  the  other  still  in  course  of  publication.  We 
have  had  plans  and  proposals  for  a  somewhat  similarly 
constructed  history  of  the  United  States.  Mr.  Justin 
Winsor's  Narrative  and  Critical  History  of  America  hardly 
furnishes  an  example  of  the  sort  of  work  attempted  in  the 
other  series  of  which  I  have  spoken.  Aside  from  its  lists 
and  critical  estimates  of  authorities,  it  is  only  history  along 
the  ordinary  lines  done  in  monographs,  covering  topics 
every  historian  of  America  has  tried  to  cover.  Mr.  Traill's 
volumes,  as  their  general  title  bears  evidence,  run  upon  a 
wider  field,  whose  boundaries  include  art,  literature,  lan- 
guage, and  religion,  as  well  as  law  and  politics.  They  are 
broader,  at  any  rate  in  their  formal  plan,  than  Lord  Acton's 
series,  if  we  may  judge  by  the  three  volumes  of  the  Cam- 
bridge Modern  History  already  published.  The  chapter- 
headings  in  the  Cambridge  volumes  smack  much  more 
often  of  politics  and  public  affairs  than  of  the  more  covert 
things  of  private  impulse  and  endeavor.  Their  authors 
write  generally,  however,  with  a  very  broad  horizon  about 
them  and  examine  things  usually  left  unnoted  by  historians 
of  an  earlier  age.  The  volumes  may  fairly  be  taken,  there- 
fore, to  represent  an  attempt  at  a  comprehensive  synthesis 
of  modern  historical  studies. 

Both  Mr.  Traill's  volumes  and  the  Cambridge  Modern 
History  are  constructed  upon  essentially  the  same  general 
plan.  The  sections  of  the  one  and  the  chapters  of  the 
other  are  monographs  pieced  together  to  make  a  tessellated 
whole.  The  hope  of  the  editors  has  been  to  obtain,  by 
means  of  carefully  formulated  instructions  and  suggestions 
issued  beforehand  to  their  corps  of  associates,  a  series  of 


36  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

sections  conceived  antl  executed,  in  some  general  sen'^e, 
upon  a  common  model  and  suitable  to  be  worked  in  to- 
gether as  parts  of  an  intelligible  and  consistent  pattern; 
and,  so  uniform  has  been  our  training  in  historical  re- 
search and  composition  in  recent  years,  that  a  most  sur- 
prising degree  of  success  has  attended  the  effort  after 
homogeneous  texture  in  the  narrative  and  critical  essays 
which  have  resulted ;  a  degree  of  success  which  I  call  sur- 
prising, not  because  I  think  it  very  nearly  complete,  but 
because  I  am  astonished  that,  in  the  circumstances,  it 
should  have  been  success  at  all  and  not  utter  failure. 

It  is  far  from  being  utter  failure;  and  yet  how  far  it  is 
also  from  being  satisfactory  success!  Allow  me  to  take, 
as  an  example  of  the  way  in  which  these  works  are  con- 
structed, my  own  experience  in  writing  a  chapter  for  the 
volume  of  the  Cambridge  Modern  History  which  is  de- 
voted to  the  United  States.  In  doing  so  I  am  far  from 
meaning  even  to  imply  any  criticism  upon  the  editors  of 
that  admirable  series,  to  whom  w^e  are  all  so  much  in- 
debted. I  do  not  see  how,  without  incredible  labor,  they 
could  have  managed  the  delicate  and  difficult  business  in- 
trusted to  them  in  any  other  way;  and  I  am  adducing  my 
experience  in  their  service  only  for  the  sake  of  illustrating 
what  must,  no  doubt,  inevitably  be  the  limitations  and 
drawbacks  of  work  in  this  peculiar  kind.  I  can  think 
of  no  other  way  so  definite  of  assessing  the  quality  and 
serviceability  of  this  sort  of  synthesis.  I  was  asked  by 
Lord  Acton  to  write  for  his  volume  on  the  United  States 
the  chapter  which  treats  of  the  very  painful  and  important 
decade  1850-1860,  and  I  undertook  the  commission  with 
a  good  deal  of  willingness.  There  are  several  things  con- 
cerning that  critical  period  which  I  like  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  say.  But  I  had  hardly  embarked  upon  the  inter- 
esting enterprise,  which  I  was  bidden  compass  within  thirty 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY         37 

of  the  ample  pages  of  the  Cambridge  royal  octavos,  before 
I  was  beset  by  embarrassments  with  regard  to  the  manner 
and  scope  of  treatment.  The  years  1850-18()0  do  not,  of 
course,  either  in  our  own  history  or  in  any  other,  constitute 
a  decade  severed  from  its  fellows.  The  rootages  of  all 
the  critical  matters  which  then  began  to  bear  their  bitter 
/ruitage  are  many  and  complex  and  run  far,  very  far,  back 
into  soil  which  I  knew  very  well  other  writers  were  farm- 
ing. I  did  not  know  what  they  would  say  or  leave  unsaid, 
explain  or  leave  doubtful.  I  could  take  nothing  for 
granted ;  for  every  man's  point  of  view  needs  its  special 
elucidation,  and  he  can  depend  upon  no  other  man  to  light 
his  path  for  him.  I  therefore  wrote  a  narrative  essay,  in 
my  best  philosophical  vein,  on  the  events  of  the  decade 
assigned  me,  in  which  I  gave  myself  a  very  free  hand  and 
took  care  to  allow  my  eye  a  wide  and  sweeping  view  upon 
every  side.  I  spoke  of  any  matter  I  pleased,  harked  back 
to  any  transaction  that  concerned  me,  recking  nothing  of 
how  long  before  the  limiting  date  1850  it  might  have 
occurred,  and  so  flung  myself  very  freely, — should  I  say 
very  insolently? — through  many  a  reach  of  country  that 
clearly  and  of  my  own  certain  knowledge  belonged  to 
others,  by  recorded  Cambridge  title.  How  was  I  to  avoid 
it?  My  co-laborers  were  not  at  my  elbow  in  my  study. 
Some  of  them  were  on  the  other  side  of  the  sea.  The 
editors  themselves  could  not  tell  me  what  these  gentlemen 
were  to  say,  for  they  did  not  know.  The  other  essays 
intended  for  the  volume  were  on  the  stocks  being  put 
together,  as  mine  was. 

I  must  conjecture  that  the  other  writers  for  that  volume 
fared  as  I  did,  and  took  the  law  into  their  own  hands  as 
I  did ;  and  their  experience  and  mine  is  the  moral  of  my 
criticism.  No  sort  of  cunning  joinery  could  fit  their  sev- 
eral pieces  of  workmanship  together  into  a  single  and  con- 


38  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

sistent  whole.  Xo  amount  of  uniform  type  and  sound 
binding  can  metamorphose  a  series  of  individual  essays 
into  a  book.  I  may  be  allowed  to  express  my  surprise,  in 
passing,  that  some  individual  historians  should  have  tried 
to  compound  and  edit  themselves  in  the  same  way,  by 
l)inding  together  essays  which  were  conceived  and  ex- 
ecuted as  separate  wholes.  The  late  Mr.  Edward  Eggleston 
furnished  us  with  a  distinguished  example  of  this  in  his 
Beginners  of  a  Nation,  whose  chapters  are  topical  and  run 
back  and  forth  through  time  and  circumstance  without 
integration  or  organic  relation  to  one  another,  treating 
again  and  again  of  the  same  things  turned  about  to  be 
looked  at  from  a  different  angle.  And  if  a  man  of  capital 
gifts  cannot  fuse  his  own  essays,  or  even  beat  and  com- 
press them  into  solid  and  coherent  amalgam,  how  shall 
editors  be  blamed  who  find  the  essays  of  a  score  of  minds 
equally  intractable?  No  doubt  the  Cambridge  volumes 
are  meant  for  scholars  more  than  for  untrained  readers, 
though  Mr.  Traill's,  I  believe,  are  not;  but  even  the  docile 
scholar,  accustomed  of  necessity  to  contrast  and  variety  in 
what  he  pores  upon  and  by  habit  very  patient  in  reconciling 
inconsistencies,  plodding  through  repetitions,  noting  varia- 
tions and  personal  w^himsies,  must  often  wonder  why  he 
should  thus  digest  pieces  of  other  men's  minds  and  eat  a 
mixture  of  secondary  authorities.  The  fact  is,  that  this 
is  not  synthesis,  but  mere  juxtaposition.  It  is  not  even 
a  compounding  of  views  and  narrati\cs.  It  is  comjjilation. 
There  is  no  whole  cloth,  no  close  texture,  anywhere  in  it. 
The  collected  pieces  overlap  and  are  sometimes  not  even 
stitched  together.  Events — even  events  of  critical  conse- 
fjuence — are  sometimes  incontinently  overlooked,  dropped 
utterly  from  the  narrative,  because  no  one  of  the  writers 
felt  any  particular  responsibility  for  them,  and  one  and 
another    took    it    for    granted    that    some    one    else    had 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY         39 

treated  of  them,  finding  their  incKision  germane  and  con- 
venient. 

But  if  we  reject  this  sort  of  cooperation  as  unsatis- 
factory, what  are  we  to  do?  Obviously  some  sort  of 
cooperation  is  necessary  in  this  various  and  almost  bound- 
less domain  of  ours;  and  if  not  the  sort  Mr.  Traill  and 
Ivord  Acton  planned,  what  sort  is  possible?  The  question 
is  radical.  It  involves  a  great  deal  more  than  the  mere 
determination  of  a  method.  It  involves  nothing  less  than 
an  examination  of  the  essential  character  and  object  of 
history, — I  mean  of  that  part  of  man's  book  of  words 
which  is  written  as  a  deliberate  record  of  his  social  ex- 
perience. What  are  our  ideals  ?  What,  in  the  last  analysis, 
do  we  conceive  our  task  to  be?  Are  we  mere  keepers  and 
transcribers  of  records,  or  do  we  write  our  own  thoughts 
and  judgments  into  our  narratives  and  interpret  what  we 
record?  The  question  may  be  simply  enough  asked,  but 
it  cannot  be  simply  answered.  The  matter  requires  elab- 
oration. 

Let  us  ask  ourselves,  by  way  of  preliminary  test,  what 
we  should  be  disposed  to  require  of  the  ideal  historian, 
what  qualities,  what  powers,  what  aptitudes,  what  pur- 
poses? Put  the  query  in  another  form,  more  concrete, 
more  convenient  to  handle:  how  would  you  critically  dis- 
tinguish Mommsen's  History  from  a  doctor's  thesis?  By 
its  scope,  of  course ;  but  its  scope  would  be  ridiculous  if  it 
were  not  for  its  insight,  its  power  to  reconceive  forgotten 
states  of  society,  to  put  antique  conceptions  into  life  and 
motion  again,  build  scattered  hints  into  systems,  and  see  a 
long  national  history  singly  and  as  a  whole.  Its  masterly 
qualities  it  gets  from  the  perceiving  eye,  the  conceiving 
mind  of  its  great  author,  his  divination  rather  than  his 
learning.  The  narrative  impresses  you  as  if  written  by 
one  who  has  seen  records  no  other  man  ever  deciphered. 


40  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

I  do  not  think  Mommsen  an  ideal  historian.  His  habit  as 
a  lawyer  was  too  strong  upon  him :  he  wrote  history  too 
much  as  if  it  were  an  argument.  His  curiosity  as  an  anti- 
quarian was  too  keen :  things  very  ancient  and  obscure  were 
more  interesting  to  him  than  the  more  commonplace  things, 
which  nevertheless  constitute  the  bulk  of  the  human  story. 
But  his  genius  for  interpretation  was  his  patent  of  nobility 
in  the  peerage  of  historians ;  he  would  not  be  great  without 
it ;  and  without  it  would  not  illustrate  my  present  thesis. 

That  thesis  is,  that,  in  whatever  form,  upon  whatever 
scale  you  take  it,  the  writing  of  history  as  distinguished 
from  the  clerical  keeping  of  records  is  a  process  of  interpre- 
tation. No  historical  writer,  how  small  soever  his  plot 
of  time  and  circumstance,  ever  records  all  the  facts  that 
fall  under  his  eye.  He  picks  and  chooses  for  his  narrative, 
determines  which  he  will  dwell  upon  as  significant,  which 
put  by  as  of  no  consequence.  And  that  is  a  process  of 
judgment,  an  estimation  of  values,  an  interpretation  of  the 
matter  he  handles.  The  smaller  the  plot  of  time  he  writes 
of,  the  more  secluded  from  the  general  view  the  matters 
he  deals  with,  the  more  liable  is  he  to  error  in  his  interpreta- 
tion; for  this  little  part  of  the  human  story  is  but  a  part; 
its  significance  lies  in  its  relation  to  the  whole.  It  requires 
nicer  skill,  longer  training,  better  art  and  craft  to  fit  it  to 
its  little  place  than  would  be  required  to  adjust  more  bulky 
matters,  matters  more  obviously  involved  in  the  general 
structure,  to  their  right  position  and  connections.  The 
man  with  only  common  skill  and  eyesight  is  safer  at  the 
larger,  cruder  sort  of  work.  Among  little  facts  it  requires 
an  exceeding  nice  judgment  to  pick  the  greater  and  the 
less,  prefer  the  significant  and  throw  away  only  the  neg- 
ligible. The  specialist  must  needs  be  overseen  and  cor- 
rected with  much  more  vigilance  and  misgiving  than  the 
national  historian  or  the  historian  of  epochs. 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY         41 

Here,  then,  is  the  fundamental  weakness  of  the  cooper- 
ative histories  of  which  I  have  spoken  by  example.  They 
have  no  wholeness,  singleness,  or  integrity  of  conception. 
If  the  several  authors  who  wrote  their  section  or  chapters 
had  written  their  several  parts  only  for  the  eye  of  one  man 
chosen  guide  and  chief  among  them,  and  he,  pondering 
them  all,  making  his  own  verifications,  and  drawing  from 
them  not  only,  but  also  from  many  another  source  and 
chiefly  from  his  own  lifelong  studies,  had  constructed  the 
whole,  the  narrative  had  been  everywhere  richer,  more 
complete,  more  vital,  a  living  whole.  But  such  a  scheme 
as  that  is  beyond  human  nature,  in  its  present  jealous  con- 
stitution, to  execute,  and  is  a  mere  pleasing  fancy, — if  any 
one  be  pleased  with  it.  Such  things  are  sometimes  done 
in  university  seminars,  where  masters  have  been  known  to 
use,  at  their  manifest  peril,  the  work  of  their  pupils  in 
making  up  their  published  writings ;  but  they  ought  not  to 
have  been  done  there,  and  they  are  not  likely  to  be  done 
anywhere  else.  At  least  this  may  be  said,  that,  if  master 
workmen  w^ere  thus  to  use  and  interpret  other  men's  ma- 
terials, one  great  and  indispensable  gain  would  be  made: 
history  would  be  coherently  conceived  and  consistently 
explained.  The  reader  would  not  himself  have  to  com- 
pound and  reconcile  the  divergent  views  of  his  authors. 

I  daresay  it  seems  a  very  radical  judgment  to  say  that 
synthesis  in  our  studies  must  come  by  means  of  literary 
art  and  the  conceiving  imagination;  but  I  do  not  see  how 
otherwise  it  is  to  come.  By  literary  art,  because  interpreta- 
tion cannot  come  by  crude  terms  and  unstudied  phrases  in 
WTiting  any  more  than  pictorial  interpretation  can  come  by 
a  crude,  unpracticed,  ignorant  use  of  the  brush  in  painting. 
By  the  conceiving  imagination,  because  the  historian  is  not 
a  clerk  but  a  seer :  he  must  see  the  thing  first  before  he  can 
judge  of  it.     Not  the  inventing  imagination,  but  the  con- 


42  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

cciving  imagination, — not  all  historians  have  been  careful 
to  draw  the  distinction  in  their  practice.     It  is  imagination 
that  is  needed,   is  it  not,  to  conceive  past  generations  of 
men  truly  in  their  habit  and  manner  as  they  lived?    If  not, 
it  is  some  power  of  the  same  kind  which  you  prefer  to  call 
by  another  name :  the  name  is  not  what  we  shall  stop  to 
discuss.     I  will  use  the  word  under  correction.     Nothing 
but  imagination  can  put  the  mind  back  into  the  past  ex- 
periences not   its   own,   or   make   it   the   contemporary   of 
institutions   long   since   passed   away   or   modified   beyond 
recognition.    And  yet  the  historian  must  be  in  thought  and 
comprehension  the  contemporary  of  the  men  and  afifairs  he 
writes  of.     He  must  also,  it  is  true,  be  something  more: 
if  he  would  have  the  full  power  to  interpret,  he  must  have 
the  ofifing  that   will  give  him   perspective,  the  knowledge 
of  subsequent  events   which   will   furnish  him  with  multi- 
plied   standards    of    judgment:    he    should    write    among 
records  amplified,  verified,  complete,   withdrawn  from  the 
mist  of  contemporary  opinion.     But  he  will  be  but  a  poor 
interpreter  if  he  have  alien  sympathies,  the  temperament 
of  one  age  when  writing  of  another,  it  may  be  contrasted 
with  his  own  in  every  point  of  preference  and  belief.     He 
needs  something  more  than  sympathy,  for  sympathy  may 
be  condescending,  pitying,  contemptuous.     Few  things  are 
more  benighting  than  the  condescension   of   one   age   for 
another,  and  the  historian  who  shares  this  blinding  senti- 
ment is  of  course  unfitted  for  his  office,  which  is  not  that 
of  censor  but  that  of  interpreter.     Sympathy  there  must 
be,  and  very  catholic  sympathy,  but  it  must  be  the  sympathy 
of  the  man   who  stands  in  the  midst  and  sees,   like  one 
within,   not  like  one  without,    like   a  native,   not  like   an 
alien.     He  must  not  sit  like  a  judge  exercising  exterritorial 
jurisdiction. 

It  is  through  the  imagination  that  this  delicate  adjust- 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY         43 

meiit  of  view  is  effected, — a  power  not  of  the  understand- 
ing- nor  yet  a  mere  faculty  of  sympathetic  appreciation,  or 
even  compounded  of  the  two,  but  mixed  of  these  with  a 
magical  gift  of  insight  added,  which  makes  it  a  thing  mere 
study,  mere  open-mindedness,  mere  coolness  and  candor  of 
judgment  cannot  attain.  Its  work  cannot  be  done  by  editor- 
ship or  even  by  the  fusing  of  the  products  of  different 
minds  under  the  heat  of  a  single  genius ;  its  insight  is  with- 
out rule,  and  is  exercised  in  singleness  and  independence. 
It  is  in  its  nature  a  thing  individual  and  incommunicable. 

Since  literary  art  and  this  distinctive,  inborn  genius  of 
interpretation  are  needed  for  the  elucidation  of  the  human 
story  and  must  be  married  to  real  scholarship  if  they  are 
to  be  exercised  with  truth  and  precision,  the  work  of 
making  successful  synthesis  of  the  several  parts  of  our 
labors  for  each  epoch  and  nation  must  be  the  achievement 
of  individual  minds,  and  it  might  seem  that  we  must  await 
the  slow  maturing  of  gifts  Shakespearean  to  accomplish 
it.  But,  happily,  the  case  is  not  so  desperate.  The  genius 
required  for  this  task  has  nothing  of  the  universal  scope, 
variety,  or  intensity  of  the  Shakespearean  mind  about  it. 
It  is  of  a  much  more  humble  sort  and  is,  we  have  reason 
to  believe,  conferred  upon  men  of  every  generation.  There 
would  be  good  cause  to  despair  of  the  advance  of  historical 
knowledge  if  it  were  not  bestowed  with  some  liberality. 
It  is  needed  for  the  best  sort  of  analysis  and  specialization 
of  study  as  well  as  for  successful  synthesis,  for  the  par- 
ticular as  well  as  for  the  general  task.  Moreover,  a  certain 
very  large  amount  of  cooperation  is  not  only  possible  but 
quite  feasible.  It  depends,  after  all,  on  the  specialists 
whether  there  shall  be  successful  synthesis  or  not.  If  they 
wish  it,  if  it  be  their  ideal,  if  they  construct  their  parts  with 
regard  to  the  whole  and  for  the  sake  of  the  whole,  syn- 
thesis will  follow  naturally  and  with  an  easy  approach  to 


44  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

perfection;  but  if  tlie  specialists  are  hostile,  if  their  en- 
thusiasm is  not  that  of  those  who  have  a  large  aim  and 
view,  if  they  continue  to  insist  on  detail  for  detail's  sake 
and  suspect  all  generalization  of  falseness,  if  they  cannot 
be  weaned  from  the  provincial  spirit  of  petty  farmers,  the 
outlook  is  bad  enough,  synthesis  is  indefinitely  postponed. 
Synthesis  is  not  possible  without  specialization.  The  special 
student  must  always  garner,  sift,  verify.  ]\Iinute  circum- 
stance must  be  examined  along  with  great  circumstance, 
all  the  background  as  w^ell  as  the  foreground  of  the  picture 
studied,  every  part  of  human  endeavor  held  separately 
under  scrutiny  until  its  individual  qualities  and  particular 
relations  with  the  rest  of  the  human  story  stand  clearly 
revealed ;  and  this  is,  of  necessity,  the  w'ork  of  hundreds  of 
minds,  not  of  one  mind.  There  is  labor  enough  and  honor 
enough  to  go  around,  and  the  specialist  w^ho  puts  first-rate 
gifts  into  his  task,  though  he  be  less  read,  will  not  in  the 
long  estimate  of  literature  earn  less  distinction  than  the 
general  historian.  It  is  a  question  of  the  division  and 
cooperation  of  labor:  but  it  is  more;  it  is  also  a  question 
of  the  spirit  in  which  the  labor  is  done,  the  public  spirit 
that  animates  it,  the  general  aim  and  conception  that  under- 
lies and  inspires  it. 

As  a  university  teacher  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  the 
government  of  the  matter  is  largely  in  the  hands  of  the 
professors  of  history  in  our  schools  of  higher  training. 
The  modern  crop  of  specialists  is  theirs :  they  can  plant  and 
reap  after  a  different  kind  if  they  choose.  I  am  convinced 
that  the  errors  and  narrownesses  of  specialization  are 
chiefly  due  to  vicious  methods  and  mistaken  objects  in 
the  training  of  advanced  students  of  history  in  the  uni- 
versities. In  the  first  place,  if  I  may  speak  from  the  ex- 
perience of  our  American  universities,  students  are  put  to 
asks   of   special   investigation  before  they   are  sufficiently 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY         45 

grounded  in  oeneral  history  and  in  the  larger  aspects  of 
the  history  of  the  age  or  nation  of  whicli  they  are  set  to 
elaborate  a  part.  They  discover  too  many  things  that  are 
already  known  and  too  many  things  which  are  not  true, — 
at  any  rate,  in  the  crude  and  distorted  shape  in  which  they 
advance  them.  Other  universities  may  be  happier  than 
ours  in  their  material,  in  the  previous  training  of  the  men 
of  whom  they  try  to  make  investigators;  but  even  when 
the  earlier  instruction  of  their  pupils  has  been  more  nearly 
adequate  and  better  suited  to  what  is  to  follow,  the  training 
they  add  is  not,  I  take  the  liberty  of  saying,  that  which  is 
likely  to  produce  history,  but  only  that  which  is  likely  to 
produce  doctors'  theses.  The  students  in  their  seminars 
are  encouraged,  if  they  are  not  taught,  to  prefer  the  part 
to  the  whole,  the  detail  to  the  spirit,  like  chemists  who 
should  prefer  the  individual  reactions  of  their  experiments 
to  the  laws  which  they  illustrate. 

I  should  think  the  mischievous  mistake  easy  enough  of 
correction.  It  is  quite  possible  to  habituate  students  to  a 
point  of  view,  and  to  do  so  is  often,  I  daresay,  the  best 
part  of  their  preparation.  When  they  come  to  the  ad- 
vanced stage  of  their  training,  at  which  they  are  to  be  set 
to  learn  methods  of  investigation,  they  should  not  be  set 
first  of  all  to  the  discovery  of  elaboration  of  facts,  to  the 
filling  in  of  the  hiatuses  easily  and  everywhere  to  be  dis- 
cerned, by  their  preceptors  at  any  rate,  in  the  previous 
study  of  detail.  They  should,  rather,  be  set  to  learn  a 
very  different  process,  the  process  of  synthesis :  to  establish 
the  relations  of  circumstances  already  known  to  the  general 
history  of  the  day  in  which  they  occured.  These  circum- 
stances should  not  all  be  political  or  economic  or  legal ; 
they  should  as  often  concern  religion,  literature,  art,  or  the 
development  of  language,  so  that  the  student  should  at 
once  become  accustomed  to  view  the  life  of  men  in  society 


46  HISTORICAL  SCIENCE 

as  a  whole.  Heaven  knows  there  is  enough  original  work 
waiting  to  be  done  in  this  kind  to  keep  many  generations 
of  youngsters  profitably  employed.  Look  where  you  will 
in  the  field  of  modern  monographs,  and  it  is  easy  to  find 
unassociated  facts  piled  high  as  the  roofs  of  libraries. 
There  is  not  a  little  fame  as  well  as  much  deep  instruction 
to  be  got  out  of  classifying  them  and  bringing  them  into 
their  vital  relations  with  the  life  of  which  they  form  a 
part.  It  were  mere  humanity  to  relieve  them  of  their 
loneliness.  After  they  had  been  schooled  in  this  work, 
which,  believe  me,  some  one  must  do,  and  that  right 
promptly,  our  advanced  students  of  history  and  of  his- 
torical method  would  be  ready  to  go  on,  if  it  were  only 
after  graduation,  after  the  fateful  doctor's  degree,  to  the 
further  task  of  making  new  collections  of  fact,  which  they 
would  then  instinctively  view  in  their  connection  with  the 
known  circumstances  of  the  age  in  which  they  happened. 
Thus,  perhaps  thus  only,  will  the  spirit  and  the  practice 
of  synthesis  be  bred. 

If  this  change  should  be  successfully  brought  about, 
there  would  no  longer  be  any  painful  question  of  hierarchy 
among  historians :  the  specialist  would  have  the  same  spirit 
as  the  national  historian,  would  use  the  same  power,  display 
the  same  art,  and  pass  from  the  ranks  of  artisans  to  the 
ranks  of  artists,  making  cameos  as  much  to  be  prized  as 
great  canvases  or  heroic  statues.  Until  this  happens  his- 
tory will  cease  to  be  a  part  of  literature,  and  that  is  but 
another  way  of  saying  that  it  will  lose  its  influence  in  the 
world,  its  monographs  prove  about  as  vital  as  the  speci- 
mens in  a  museum.  It  is  not  only  the  delightful  pre- 
rogative of  our  studies  to  view  man  as  a  whole,  as  a  living, 
breathing  spirit,  it  is  also  their  certain  fate  that  if  they  do 
not  view  him  so,  no  living,  breathing  spirit  will  heed  them. 
We  have  used  the  wrong  words  in  speaking  of  our  art  and 


VARIETY  AND  UNITY  OF  HISTORY         47 

craft.  History  must  be  revealed,  not  recorded,  conceived 
before  it  is  written,  and  we  must  all  in  our  several  degrees 
be  seers,  not  clerks.  It  is  a  high  calling  and  should  not 
be  belittled.  Statesmen  are  guided  and  formed  by  what 
we  write,  patriots  stimulated,  tyrants  checked.  Reform  and 
progress,  charity,  and  freedom  of  belief,  the  dreams  of 
artists  and  the  fancies  of  poets,  have  at  once  their  record 
and  their  source  with  us.  We  must  not  suffer  ourselves 
to  fall  dull  and  pedantic,  must  not  lose  our  visions  or  cease 
to  speak  the  large  words  of  inspiration  and  guidance.  It 
were  a  shame  upon  us  to  drop  from  the  ranks  of  those 
who  walk  at  the  van  and  sink  into  the  ranks  of  those  who 
only  follow  after,  to  pick  up  the  scattered  traces  of  the 
marching  host  as  things  merely  to  pore  upon  and  keep. 
We  cannot  do  this.  We  will  return  to  our  traditions  and 
compel  our  fellow  historians  of  literature  to  write  of  us 
as  of  those  who  were  masters  of  a  great  art. 


WOOBliOW  WILSON.    Ph.D.,  LLD. 
Prenident  of  Princeton  Unioersity 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  IN  THE  NINE- 
TEENTH CENTURY. 

BY    WILLIAM    MILLIGAN    SLOANE 

[William  Milligan  Sloane,  3eth  Low  Professor  of  History.  Colum- 
bia University,  since  1896.  b.  November  12,  1850,  Richmond, 
Ohio.  A.B.  Columbia,  1868;  Ph.D.  Leipsic,  1876;  L.H.D.  Colum- 
bia, 1885;  LL.D.  Rutgers,  1900;  Princeton,  1903.  Post-graduate, 
University  of  Berlin,  1872-75;  University  of  Leipsic,  1875-76. 
Classical  Master  Newell  Institute,  1868-72.  Professor  of  Latin, 
Princeton,  1877-82;  History,  1882-96.  Member  Academy  of  Po- 
litical Science,  American  Historical  Association,  National  Insti- 
tute of  Arts  and  Letters.  Author  of  The  French  War  and  the 
Revolution;  Napoleon  Bonaparte;  The  French  Revolution  and 
Religious  Reform;  and  editor  of  The  American  Historical  Re- 
view.] 

The  scientific  study  of  history  seeks  to  find  in  the  past 
the  means  of  determining  both  the  evokition  occurring 
under  our  eyes  and  the  probabihties  of  the  future.  No 
preconception  may  distort  the  facts ;  but,  the  facts  once 
determined,  they  may  not  be  considered  except  in  the  Hght 
of  reason.  This  by  the  rhetorical  figure  of  "  anticipation  " 
we  call,  the  Science  of  History.  There  is  no  claim  that  as 
yet  this  is  other  than  an  empirical  science:  we  hope  that 
one  day  it  may  become  fairly  complete;  exact,  within  cer- 
tain limits.  Freeman,  Morley,  Acton,  Comte,  Renan, 
Taine;  Waitz,  Ranke,  Mommsen, — these  are  some  of  the 
men  who  during  the  century  just  past  have  labored  to  make 
history  scientific.  One  and  all  they  ridiculed  the  wild  ex- 
aggeration of  mere  reason  as  the  final  arbiter,  apart  from 
the  affections,  the  imagination,  and  the  moral  sense;  one 
and  all  they  distrusted  the  "  vague  and  sterile  philan- 
thropy," which  is  so  often  a  plague  to  normal  social  con- 
ditions. Freethinkers  as  were  most  of  them,  yet,  liberal 
and  orthodox  alike,  they  believed  in  the  merits  and  bene- 

49 


50       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

factions  of  the  Christian  Church  as  a  vital  factor  in  their 
science.    In  their  cathoHc  spirit  they  were  truly  scientific. 

It  is  assumed  that  the  scientific  study  of  history  has 
entirely  displaced  history  as  literature;  or  literary  history, 
as  many  style  it.  There  have,  indeed,  been  many  men 
of  light  and  learning,  whose  style  and  trained  imagination 
have  transmuted  history  into  literature:  there  have  been 
others  who  sought,  even  in  the  study  of  texts  and  in  the 
interpretations  of  philology,  to  secure  the  material  of 
novels,  tales,  or  poetry,  to  find  examples  for  the  inspira- 
tion and  consolation  of  contemporary  life.  For  such  works 
the  public  has  a  passion,  and  no  wonder;  with  the  delight 
of  literature  we  seem  to  combine  learning  and  education. 
We  savor  and  love  the  mixture  of  fact,  philosophy,  and 
poetry;  the  invention,  the  charm,  the  power.  Yet  this  is 
not  and  never  was  history;  something  perhaps  higher,  but 
not  history.  There  may  even  be  literary  science;  but  for 
all  that  science  is  not  literature  nor  literature  science.  These 
twain  cannot  be  made  one  flesh.  Each  may  modify  the 
other,  but  there  is  no  transmutation. 

For  the  scientific  study  of  history  we  must  have  minds 
subtle,  conscientious,  and  accurate — minds  with  a  power 
and  aptitude  for  minutiae,  with  a  patience  and  endurance 
which  know  no  bounds,  honest  minds  incapable  of  even 
self-deception,  and  in  particular  with  the  linguistic  gift  that 
makes  no  language  impossible  of  acquisition  or  foreign 
to  the  learner's  aptitudes.  Only  for  the  mind  thus  equipped 
can  history  and  philology  be  scientific.  The  generations 
of  men  endowed  with  the  imaginative  faculty  have  seen 
and  will  ever  see,  in  the  labors  of  such  minds,  the  most 
splendid  form  of  applied  art,  the  highest  known  form  of 
prose  literature  possibly,  but  certainly  the  nearest  approach 
to  scientific  history  that  can  be  made. 

In  ours  as  in  other  disciplines  there  is  trouble;  and  the 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       51 

trouble,  as  elsewhere,  arises  among  the  men  who  are  desti- 
tute, or  nearly  so,  of  the  imaginative  power  which  is  so 
well  designated  as  the  scientific  imagination.  Honest  men 
of  this  sort,  proud  of  their  devotion  and  accuracy,  become 
pedantic,  claim  infallibility,  and  despise  all  others:  in  the 
presence  of  the  most  august  of  all  terrestrial  things, — the 
origins,  rise,  and  evolution  of  a  state,  the  supreme  social 
unit, — the  mere  investigator  secures  no  large  view  but 
becomes  a  stern,  contemptuous  materialist.  Only  worse 
than  these  are  the  ignorant  and  impatient,  who  disdain 
the  accuracy  of  truth,  and  are  indifferent  to  the  orderly 
arrangement  of  facts:  the  chain  of  causation  in  human 
affairs  they  can  neither  understand  nor  appreciate,  being 
dazzled  by  speculation,  imagery,  and  rhetoric.  Shallow 
and  inaccurate,  they  prate  about  history  as  literature,  and 
deny  the  possibility  of  a  science  of  history. 

In  the  closing  years  of  the  nineteenth  century  there  was 
much  strife  about  the  question  as  to  whether  or  not  there 
could  be  science  in  history.  The  question  now  is :  How 
much  science  and  of  what  kind  is  there  in  history?  As 
some  help  toward  a  reply,  we  are  forced  to  an  historical 
retrospect  of  the  efforts  to  secure  and  apply  a  method. 

The  eighteenth  century  is  by  many  regarded  as  the  period 
when  history  was  born  anew  into  the  realm  of  science. 
The  reason  given  is  that  it  coincided  with  the  final  over- 
throw of  ecclesiasticism,  and  the  chief  names  adduced  in 
proof  are  these  of  Vico  (1G68-1744),  Gibbon  (1737-94), 
Voltaire  (1G94-1778),  and  Burke  (1729-97).  It  was  felt 
that  humanity  was,  if  not  its  own  first  cause,  at  least  its 
own  demiurge,  and  men  were  determined  to  discover,  if 
possible,  what  were  the  processes  by  which  mankind  had 
formed  itself  and  made  its  home.  Without  a  doubt  there 
was  for  this  reason  a  passionate  study  of  nature,  and  it 
may  have  been  a  necessary  complement  that  both  the  statics 


52       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

and  dynamics  of  social  phenomena  were  examined  with  a 
new  purpose  and  from  a  new  angle.  But  in  spite  of  all 
eft'orts  to  establish  this  contention  and  to  trace  an  historical 
continuity  in  the  science  of  "  histories  "  from  then  until 
now,  there  lie  athwart  the  argument  difficulties  so  porten- 
tous and  so  serious  as  almost  if  not  entirely  to  vitiate  its 
conclusions. 

It  is  true  that  Vico  was  the  first  to  ask  why,  if  there  be 
a  science  of  nature,  we  have  no  science  of  history?  It  is 
consequently  true  that  he  was  the  first  historical  evolution- 
ist. To  him  the  story  of  a  nation  was  the  record  of  an 
ever  completer  realization  in  fact  of  certain  remnants  of  a 
pre-natal  revelation,  of  the  primitive  concrete  notions  of 
justice,  goodness,  beauty,  and  truth :  the  development,  as 
he  phrased  it,  of  this  poetic  wisdom  into  the  occult  wisdom 
of  law  and  government,  into  the  realization  of  abstract 
and  impersonal  justice,  was  for  him  the  subject-matter  of 
history.  This  was  a  sublime  idea,  pregnant  with  great 
possibilities.  But  its  author  could  not  see  the  conclusions. 
Conceiving  of  three  stages — divine,  heroic,  and  human — 
he  announced  three  corresponding  civilizations,  ending  in 
an  unstable  democracy,  whence  society  abandoned  to  license 
always  relapses  into  barbarism,  only  to  emerge  once  more 
by  a  law  of  cycles  into  a  renewal  of  the  process.  This,  of 
course,  is  a  flat  denial  of  progress.  Moreo\-er  Vico  never 
had  a  glimpse,  much  less  a  vision,  of  scientific  order  in  his- 
tory beyond  the  record  of  a  single  folk,  and  never  conceived 
of  general  history  in  a  scientific  aspect.  For  these  reasons 
he  was  a  prophet  without  honor,  either  contemporaneous 
or  posthumous,  and  left  no  influence  behind  to  mould  either 
his  own  or  succeeding  ages. 

The  method  which  Voltaire  announced  was  alike  more 
simple  and  more  scientific.  It  was  based  on  the  theory  that 
most  details  of  history  are  mere  baggage,  and  that  when 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       53 

the  lumber  of  the  antiquary,  as  Bolingbroke  called  it,  is 
disengaged  from  capital  events,  you  may  study  in  these  last 
the  vital  human  power  and  its  workings.  Wars,  diplomacy, 
and  the  personal  minutiae  of  the  political  hierarchy,  he 
relegated  to  the  garret  of  the  chronicler  and  collector :  laws, 
arts,  and  manners,  he  conceived  to  be  the  essentials  of  his- 
tory. Equipped  with  this  doctrine,  he  turned  to  account 
such  portions  of  his  time  as  he  could  spare  from  literature, 
politics,  and  attacks  on  ecclesiasticism  to  the  composition 
of  philosophical  history.  By  the  sheer  force  of  historic 
doubt  he  destroyed  many  a  myth,  by  the  seductions  of  a 
graceful  style  and  the  stings  of  a  biting  sarcasm  he  rele- 
gated the  millinery  of  human  life  to  the  rummage  chambers 
where  it  belongs,  and  finally  in  his  great  essay  on  manners 
he  drew  the  plan  and  established  the  proportions  for  a  con- 
cept of  unity  in  history  which  in  another  land  and  age  was 
destined  to  revolutionize  the  pursuit. 

Either  he  never  knew  or  he  had  forgotten  a  vital  point. 
Jejune  and  embryonic  as  Aristotle's  Politics  appear  when 
applied  to  our  problems,  his  experience  having  been  con- 
fined to  the  petty  states  of  Greece,  he  nevertheless  found 
and  set  forth  the  vital  principle  of  society  as  an  organism. 
On  this  were  based  the  ancient  concepts  of  economics.  The 
embryo  of  modern  economics  was  begotten  by  Jean  Bodin 
(1580),  a  lawyer  of  the  sixteenth  century,  who  formulated 
the  ideas  of  progress,  law,  and  causation  in  history.  Had 
he  combined  with  his  own  thoughts  (Methodus  ad  facilcm 
Historiarum  Cognifioncm)  the  one  great  thought  of  Aris- 
totle, he  would  have  been  even  more  famous  than  he  is, 
he  would  have  been  the  father  of  scientific  history  as  well 
as  of  scientific  economics.  His  objective,  external  attitude 
toward  history  was  that  of  all  the  great,  down  to  the  nine- 
teenth century;  it  was  the  basic  concept  and  starting-point 
of  Bossuet,  of  Vico,  of  Bodin,  and  even  of  Montesquieu. 


54       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

It  was  likewise  the  radical  vice  of  Voltaire,  as  in  a  still 
higher  degree  it  was  that  of  Gibbon.  The  foundations  of 
the  social  union  may  not  be  studied  in  collection  of  his- 
torical, legal,  or  even  social  facts,  nor  in  brilliant  general- 
izations therefrom,  like  those  which  cause  the  pages  of 
Montesquieu  to  flash  and  scintillate.  The  true  science  of 
history  shows  us  not  merely  the  operations,  what  has  been 
called  the  "  play  and  function  "  of  the  social  organs,  it 
exhibits  under  the  scalpel  the  organs  themselves.  Negative 
criticism  has  its  rights,  no  doubt,  but  it  is  scanty  fare  for 
the  hungry  soul,  and  the  idea  of  constructive,  productive 
criticism  was  far  better  dexeloped  in  Thucydides  than  in 
Voltaire ;  the  most  that  can  be  said  of  the  latter  is  that  he 
saw  in  a  glass  darkly  the  concept,  not  of  the  unity  of 
history,  but  of  European  history  as  a  totality. 

What  then  of  Gibbon ;  has  he  too  been  weighed  in  the 
balances  and  found  w^anting?  His  erudition  was  immense, 
his  pen  facile  and  powerful,  his  grasp  gigantic  and  his 
method  sound.  Let  us  apply  the  supreme  test.  Do  scholars 
read  him?  or,  if  they  read  him,  is  it  for  any  other  motive 
than  a  learned  curiosity?  They  copiously  correct  and  an- 
notate him,  and  freely  explore  the  mazes  of  his  thought: 
they  conspire  with  publishers  to  issue  new  editions  of  his 
books,  and  the  public  buys  edition  after  edition ;  but  so  like- 
wise do  they  buy  edition  after  edition  of  Rollin's  Universal 
History!  The  sets  look  well  on  the  shelves,  but  the  man 
who  reads  either  is  hard  pressed  to  kill  time.  There  is 
more  light  thrown  on  the  Decline  and  Fall  by  the  short 
treatise  of  Fustel  than  by  all  the  ponderous  and  erudite 
rhetoric  of  Gibbon.  We  have  gleaned,  not  a  few,  but  many 
facts,  which  Gibbon  had  not,  even  though  the  truth  of 
fact  is  on  all  his  pages;  his  method  struggles  to  combine 
the  ideas  of  evolution  and  of  organism,  but  his  logic  is 
after  all   felt  to  be  futile  and  his  conclusions  antiquated. 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       55 

Like  the  other  historians  of  his  epoch,  though  the  move- 
ment of  his  style  is  Hke  that  of  the  Roman  triumph,  he  has 
not  left  to  the  world  a  "  possession  forever."  Scholars  can 
find  all  his  information  elsewhere,  the  use  he  makes  of  it 
they  neither  admire  nor  approve.  Readers  of  discrimina- 
tion have  better  use  for  their  time  than  to  peruse  the  pages 
of  an  unsympathetic  formalist,  the  eulogist  of  heathen 
effeminacy,  an  apologist  for  pagan  morality. 

In  truth,  the  eighteenth  century  is  very  remote  from  the 
nineteenth.  The  same  facts  no  longer  wear  the  same  faces, 
and  another  method  has  gradually  supplanted  that  which, 
though  respectable,  was  nevertheless  outworn.  A  restless 
evolution  renews  during  every  few  generations  all  history 
in  all  its  aspects,  and  never  halts  in  the  process.  It  is  the 
fiat  that  history  must  be  rewritten  as  knowledge  grows,  as 
epoch  succeeds  epoch.  This  is  because  readers  have  lived; 
have  lived  themselves  into  a  world  that  is  new  scientifically 
and  psychologically,  and  which  has  perspectives  of  which 
the  past  knew  nothing.  Viewed  from  the  heights  of  our 
modern  achievements  in  learning,  the  vaunted  historical 
science  of  the  eighteenth  century,  method  and  all,  seems 
little  better  than  a  dangerous  pseudo-science  like  phrenology 
or  astrology. 

The  first  reaction  against  what  was  after  all  a  phantom, 
stately  though  it  were,  sprang  rather  from  feeling  than 
from  knowledge;  it  was  a  rebound  of  logic  and  not  of 
reason.  This  premature  revolt  is  probably  best  illustrated 
in  the  case  of  Niebuhr.  Though  powerful,  the  mind  of  the 
great  Danish  diplomat  was  dry  and  disdainful:  contempt- 
uous of  the  practical  and  judicial.  In  his  field  of  ancient 
history  he  substituted  for  painstaking  research  and  for  con- 
crete reasoning  a  method  based  on  gratuitous  assumptions, 
a  method  which  destroyed  traditional  reality,  to  erect  in  its 
place  a  baseless  fabric  of  credulous  negations.     It  has  been 


56       POLITICAL  AND  ECOxNOMIC  HISTORY 

the  task  of  his  successors,  beginning  with  Mommsen  and 
ending  with  Taine's  fine  treatise  on  Livy,  to  dissipate  his 
airy  structure  of  so-called  analytic  criticism.  Considerate 
as  they  have  been,  they  have  left  upright  only  a  very  few 
of  his  original  contentions,  and  these  the  least  important, 
wherewith  to  uphold,  for  shame's  sake,  the  vanishing  re- 
nown of  his  name.  The  indications  of  archaeological  dis- 
covery at  this  hour  all  point  to  the  ultimate  annihilation  of 
every  principle  and  position  which  he  enunciated.  Could 
his  shade  be  seen  strolling  to-day  across  the  excavated 
Roman  Forum,  and  its  crowding  reflections  be  recorded  for 
our  benefit,  the  muttered  syllables  of  its  vanitas  vanitatum 
would  instruct  our  generation  how  superior  is  even  the 
older  notion  of  history  as  a  compound  of  poetry  and  phil- 
osophy to  the  substitute,  which  merely  dissects  and  com- 
pares abstractions,  which  begets  negations  and  brings  forth 
only  specious  presumptions. 

It  will  appear,  I  think,  on  dispassionate  examination, 
that  the  beginning  of  fruitfully  scientific  study  in  history, 
the  initiation  of  the  modern  method,  is  to  be  found  in 
Heeren.  Unlike  Niebuhr,  he  builded  with  new  materials. 
Beginning  as  a  philosopher,  he  applied  in  ancient  history 
the  Socratic  method,  and  discovered  that  the  states  of 
antiquity  could  be  understood  only  in  the  light  of  their 
institutions  and  their  politics.  Entering  on  a  profound  in- 
vestigation of  these,  he  found  them  so  interlaced  with  their 
foreign  relations  that  he  examined  under  compulsion  both 
Greece  and  Rome  in  their  connection  alike  with  Egypt  and 
with  Carthage.  Even  with  the  imperfect  information  of 
the  time,  he  brought  to  light  the  momentous  principle  of 
mutation  as  dependent  not  merely  on  outward  form  but  on 
internal  structure  (morphology).  His  is  the  vital  notion 
of  comparing  contemporary  histories  in  short  periods,  as 
opposed  to  the  elucidation  of  single  ones  in  long  succeeding 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       57 

cycles  of  time.  For  this  is  essential  to  our  later  doctrine 
of  the  unity  of  history,  without  which  no  true  science  of 
the  same,  however  rudimentary,  is  at  all  possible.  With 
a  consciousness  of  this  grand  truth  as  probably  applicable 
to  every  period  of  history,  he  essayed  it  in  following  epochs 
and  evolved  the  concept  which  revolutionary  then,  is  now 
the  corner  stone  of  modern  history,  that  of  the  state-system 
of  Europe,  the  basis  upon  which  Macaulay  erected  the  great 
reputation  which  he  deserves.  It  may  be  asserted  of  Heeren 
now,  as  was  hinted  by  a  French  critic  in  his  lifetime,  that 
he  avoided  every  pitfall  into  which  cumbrous  thoroughness 
throws  its  German  votaries,  and  escaped  every  trap  which 
over-confident  logic  sets  for  its  acrobatic  French  disciples. 
The  fine  sense  of  limit  and  proportion  exhibited  by 
Heeren  were  in  glaring  contrast  to  the  shoreless  ocean  of 
speculation  on  which  both  Herder  and  Hegel  were  sailing 
almost  simultaneously.  Alike  they  taught  that  the  earthly 
realization  of  reason  in  history  is  a  necessity,  that  whether 
by  men,  or  in  spite  of  man,  all  obstacles  are  leveled  until 
humanity,  freed  from  every  hindrance,  realizes  the  divine 
ideal.  Alike  therefore  they  landed  on  the  quicksands  of 
what  may  be  to  some  a  buoyant,  but  is  to  most  a  very 
gloomy  fatalism,  as  the  only  basis  for  progress,  being  alike 
unmindful  of  Kant's  almost  self-evident  but  nevertheless 
glorious  declaration  that  progress  is  a  moral  product 
purely.  From  the  position  of  these  transcendentalists  the 
thought  which  has  dominated  the  latter  years  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  that  of  the  ]>ure  evolutionists,  does  not 
essentially  budge  one  jot;  both  are  fatalistic.  The  latter, 
it  is  true,  have  a  concept  of  progress  antipodal  to  that  of 
their  predecessors.  They  likewise  assume,  somewhat  rashly 
it  seems  in  the  present  state  of  physics,  that  the  laws  of 
science  are  fixed  and  immutable;  in  particular,  the  taproot 
of  the  system,  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy, 


58       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

seems  to  sit  uneasily  on  crumbling  and  refractory  shale 
instead  of  burrowing-  ever  deeper  into  fertile  soil. 

It  is  in  the  application  of  this  very  doctrine  that  their 
theory  of  history  emerges.  To  them  it  appears  that  energy 
being  constant  and  indestructible  in  the  social  as  in  the 
physical  order,  every  dynamic  element  works  necessarily  to 
associate  itself  with  others,  forming  under  internal  influence, 
by  integration,  an  organism  ever  more  and  more  complex. 
Simultaneously  and  subsequently  goes  on  the  process 
of  disintegration,  each  element  dissociating  itself  from 
others  under  external  influence,  and  forming  again  with 
other  and  like  busy  elements  new  composites,  which  in  turn 
inaugurate  the  next  stage  of  evolution  and  devolution,  of 
progress  and  decadence.  While  these  philosophers  fail  to 
find  the  secret  of  purpose  and  procedure,  yet  they  never 
entirely  abandoned  teleology,  and  some  at  least  have  lately 
returned  to  it  as  essential  to  their  thought,  for  advance 
seems  to  them  stronger  than  retreat,  constructive  stronger 
than  destructive  force. 

The  history  of  philosophy  show^s  that  every  cycle  of 
thought  ends  in  some  phase  of  materialism.  There  is  at 
this  hour  such  a  school  of  Augustuluses,  and  they  have 
been  fairly  influential  in  high  places.  They  have  unraveled 
evolutionary  logic  into  what  is  an  absurdity  and  are  loosing 
the  slight  hold  they  have  had  for  a  time.  Theirs  is  not 
the  agnosticism  which  is  a  state  of  suspended  judgment, 
but  the  firm  conviction  of  the  obscurantist,  denying  the 
right  of  generalization  as  to  fact  or  principle,  scorning  the 
notion  of  ethical  values  in  history.  They  reunite  the  vicious 
circle,  joining  hands  with  Froude  and  scofling  at  the  idea 
of  science  in  history,  even  of  an  empirical  science.  For 
them  history  is  but  a  mosaic  of  details,  without  design  or 
outline,  like  some  cathedral  windows  in  England ;  patched 
and   assembled    from   the   shreds   to   which   iconoclasts   re- 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       59 

duced  the  glorious  and  glowing  paintings  which,  by  color 
and  orderly  arrangement,  once  conveyed  noble  and  exalting 
thought.  These  are  the  haughty  disciples  of  the  mono- 
graph, the  apostles  of  the  "  unprinted,"  the  missionaries 
of  chaos.  In  the  wilderness  they  seek  to  create,  their 
voice  is  heard  but  not  heeded.  Generous  youth  has  a  fine 
instinct  in  the  matter  of  barren  nonsense.  There  is  science 
in  the  sections  of  the  biologist  and  in  the  preparation  of 
them,  but  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  is  the  science  of 
biology.  We  are  grateful  to  these  painstaking  antiquarians 
for  their  materials,  but  we  cannot  accept  the  materials  in 
place  of  the  finished  edifice. 

Fortunately  there  has  been  a  saner  evolution  than  this. 
On  Bacon's  great  principle  have  stood  those  who  guide  and 
advance  it;  the  principle,  namely,  that  it  is  the  honor  and 
the  glory  of  history  to  trace  causes  and  their  combination 
with  effects.  The  most  commanding  characters  of  history, 
like  men  of  common  mould,  suffer  the  compulsion  of  cir- 
cumstances which  they  cannot  control.  It  must  be  admitted 
and  duly  emphasized  that  there  is  a  mystery,  a  nature  of 
things,  which  runs  with  and  athwart  human  purpose;  that 
there  is  a  cosmic  order,  pregnant  with  a  train  of  events 
that  are  inevitable;  there  are  relation,  proportions  and  links 
in  affairs  and  in  men,  which  are  predetermined.  This, 
when  disengaged  from  the  documents,  is  what  has  been 
designated  the  weft  or  texture  of  history.  Thereon  is 
drawn  and  embroidered  by  man  the  enduring  picture  wdiich 
is  the  historical  record.  This  is  the  view  of  history  which 
lays  emphasis  neither  on  collective  nor  on  individual  man, 
but  on  the  personal  and  race  conscience  alike  and  in  equal 
proportion.  The  law  of  moral  progress  has  always  im- 
posed itself  on  societies,  and  always  will,  just  in  proportion 
as  individuals  zvill  that  it  shall,  and  labor  without  cease  tor 
the  purpose. 


60       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

It  was  a  great  saying  which  Kant  uttered  when  he  said : 
By  struggle  and  effort  ought  all  human  faculties  to  perfect 
themsehes ;  moral  progress  is  antecedent  to  all  other  forms 
and  the  source  of  them ;  besides,  the  conquests  of  each 
generation  are  the  capital  of  the  next,  so  that  the  sole 
condition  of  human  perfectibility  is  the  establishment  of  a 
civil  society  founded  on  justice.  The  determination  to 
realize  existence  more  completely,  to  struggle  for  the  ideal, 
to  aspire  higher — the  larger  the  number  in  every  society 
who  so  feel  it,  and  so  behave,  the  more  completely  will  be 
overcome  the  apparently  insuperable  obstacles  to  advance, 
the  bondage  of  the  past  over  the  present,  the  restriction  of 
each  people  by  its  contemporaries,  the  powerful  solidarity 
of  habit,  of  creed,  and  of  inertia  among  men. 

This  is  the  view  of  historical  science  which,  whether 
right  or  wrong,  was  characteristic  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury in  all  its  best  and  most  fruitful  work :  the  recognition 
of  the  evolutionary  movement,  the  exhibition  of  the  uses 
to  which  men  put  it ;  the  display  of  its  organic  integration, 
the  proof  of  its  external  disintegration  by  moral  forces ; 
the  sloughing  of  refuse,  the  renewal  of  vital  powers.  This 
doctrine  may  not  pretend  to  the  high  scientific  quality  of 
some  others,  but  somehow  it  satisfies  the  master  workmen 
and  gratifies  the  aspirations,  instincts,  and  convictions  of 
readers  far  better  than  any  other.  It  is  the  view  which 
still  controls  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  activities  of  the 
best  men  in  the  highest  civilizations.  Neglecting  the  phil- 
osophical "  impasse  "  of  liberty  and  necessity,  it  satisfies 
the  requirements  of  an  imperious  demand;  that  for  the 
tangible  results  f»f  human  experience. 

The  fruits  of  science  being  both  a  means  of  enjoyment 
and  a  guide  to  conduct,  our  attention  has  naturally  been 
monopolized  by  the  marvelous  achievements  of  physical 
science.     This  is  incorrect  and  unjust;  the  advance  and  the 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTl'RV       <;i 

results  of  the  humanistic  sciences  have  [)een  equally  re- 
markable. The  polymath  of  the  eighteenth  century,  with 
his  unorganized  masses  of  uncouth  learning,  would  to-day 
be  a  deformed  monstrosity,  so  far  has  erudition  spread  its 
field  and  so  profound  are  the  investigations  of  scholars. 
The  comparative  method,  without  which  modern  science 
of  any  sort  would  be  impossible,  is  itself  an  invention  of 
the  humanists.  And  I  have  heard  the  greatest  devotees  of 
pure  science  in  our  time  yearn  for  a  comparative  historian 
of  their  disciplines.  The  entire  success  of  scientific  history 
is  due  to  the  achievements  of  the  ancillary  sciences ;  as 
revolutionary  in  method  and  results  as  either  physics, 
chemistry,  or  biology.  In  particular,  history  is  the  hope- 
less and  grateful  debtor  of  comparative  sociology,  phil- 
ology, and  mythology,  of  comparative  religions,  folk-lore 
and  ethnology;  and  above  all  of  comparative  archaeology. 
One  winter  spent  on  the  Nile  examining  the  unbroken  and 
unfalsified  record  of  10,000  years  in  human  evolution  under 
external  influences  is  worth  to  the  student  all  the  meta- 
physics of  history,  even  when  indited  by  the  genius  of  a 
Hegel. 

By  this  vast  erudition  the  work  of  the  historian  has 
become  such  that  a  division  of  labor  is  essential.  There 
must  be  specialists  in  each  and  all  of  these  ancillary  sciences, 
and  the  historian  must  use  their  results  as  his  matter.  It 
has  become  the  categorical  imperative  of  scientific  history 
that  it  should  avail  itself  of  its  own  wherever  found.  In 
this  way  we  have  reached  what  would  otherwise  ha^'e  been 
inaccessible,  viz.,  certain  definitions  of  the  task.  We  have 
defined  the  limits,  we  have  fixed  the  basis,  we  have  as  was 
shown  in  another  connection  proved  the  unity,  and  we 
have  consequently  found  the  scientific  method  of  history. 
This  is  neither  the  time  nor  the  place  further  to  discuss 
these,  but  they  are  realities.     Without  these  definitions  the 


62       POLITICAL  AXD  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

advance   of   the   nineteenth    century    would    have   been   as 
futile  as  that  of  the  eighteenth. 

Let  us  turn  and  illustrate  these  contentions  in  consider- 
ing four  great  names  of  our  epoch :  perhaps  not  the  great- 
est, but  types  at  least  of  the  best  in  four  great  lands.  The 
names  are  those  of  Macaulay,  Ranke.  Taine,  and  Bancroft. 
Once  and  for  all  let  us  say  of  each  and  every  one  of  them 
that  he  was  a  man  of  immense  erudition ;  of  perfect  good 
faith;  of  enormous,  tireless,  patient  industry;  of  trained 
and  chastened  intellect;  fully  aware  of  the  canons  of  his- 
torical science  and  determined  to  use  them  in  his  work. 
Each  of  them,  moreover,  marks  a  stage  and  a  quality  of 
advance,  which  are  not  merely  noteworthy,  but  essential 
to  our  purpose. 

The  greatest  German  and  the  greatest  French  historians 
have  paid  homage  to  Macaulay  as  certainly  the  foremost 
English  historian,  as  possibly  the  greatest  of  all  historians 
since  Thucydides,  who,  of  course,  in  other  respects  the 
peer  of  the  modern,  far  surpasses  him  in  philosophic  in- 
sight. It  is  this  weakness  of  Macauby  which  is  his 
strength.  He  is  distinctly,  avowedly,  a  man  of  his  time 
and  place;  British  of  the  British,  and  more  than  that  a 
Victorian  Englishman,  an  admirer  of  wealth  and  rank, 
proud  of  his  country  as  the  best  on  earth.  It  is  the  pleasant 
England  of  his  day  which  interests  him,  as  it  interested 
alike  his  own  countrymen  and  the  contemporary  world. 
Setting  out  to  explain  this  joyous  land,  he  found  and  his 
readers  found  that  the  fascinating  riddle  of  its  existence 
could  be  read  clearest  in  the  light  of  the  Whig  movements 
then  continuing,  of  the  policies  of  which  he  himself  was 
an  eminent  supporter.  Not  in  any  sense  a  philosopher,  the 
truth  as  he  saw  it  was  not  an  analyzed  and  dissected  truth, 
not  an  abstraction,  but  a  cognizable  reality,  to  be  known  and 
judged  by  the  exercise  of  wholesome  common  sense. 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       G3 

Heeren,  as  we  said  earlier,  had  set  forth  the  characters 
of  the  scientific  history  which  reckons  with  the  peoples,  the 
colonies,  the  economics,  the  commerce  of  the  world.  This 
had  a  very  direct  bearing  on  the  state  of  the  British 
Empire.  Macaulay  likewise  knew  that,  to  be  complete, 
history  must  take  account  of  the  whole  earth  within  the 
limits  of  its  period.  These  conceptions  the  English  his- 
torian with  magisterial  power  incorporated  in  his  work — 
the  opening  chapters  are  masterpieces  of  historical  gen- 
eralization. But  his  genuis  went  further,  it  took  scientific 
history  from  the  university  into  the  home;  for  the  lan- 
guage, the  illustrations,  were  so  clear  and  so  interwoven 
with  the  tale  that  plain  men  felt  as  if  they  had  a  vision 
of  grandeur  not  vouchsafed  hitherto  to  them  or  to  their 
predecessors. 

For  years  the  volumes  of  Macaulay  sold  in  England  as 
no  other  book  sold,  and  in  America  the  numbers  of  copies 
distributed  were  second  in  number  only  to  those  of  the 
Bible.  There  was  not  an  important  language  of  the  Con- 
tinent into  which  the  glowing  pages  were  not  translated, 
and  in  many  there  were  several  rival  translations.  The 
truth  was  made  so  clear  and  was  so  manifestly  the  truth 
that  the  reading  world  felt  a  firm  foundation  beneath  its 
feet.  That  the  author  was  avowedly  utilitarian,  openly  a 
British  patriot,  and  intensely  a  Whig  partisan  only  served 
to  create  the  effective  chiaroscuro  in  which  all  his  work 
was  done.  He  had  been  so  unwearied  a  student  of  folk- 
song and  folk-lore  that  he  made  himself  what  is  now  called 
in  art  "  a  primitive  "  in  his  conception  and  understanding 
of  the  commonplace,  in  his  admiration  of  the  homely. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  the  relativity  of  knowledge,  either 
the  phrase  or  the  notion,  was  known  to  Macaulay.  For 
him  the  plain  truth  was  the  truth.  In  addition,  the  state 
was  for  him  no  god,  mysterious  and  omnipotent;  it  was 


64       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

a  secular  association  existing  only  to  assure  the  equality 
of  citizens  before  the  law,  to  protect  life,  liberty,  and  prop- 
erty. In  the  enjoyment  of  political  liberty  all  other  liber- 
ties are  assured,  and  Macaulay  is  proud  of  that  possession 
because  he  sees  in  it  the  honor  of  man  and  of  men.  He  is 
a  patriot  because  he  has  inherited  this  honor  from  an 
ancestry  which  suffered  for  it.  Taine,  who  gives  solid 
reasons  for  his  opinion,  thinks  Macaulay  proved  all  he  said 
as  forcibly  and  directly  as  he  stated  it,  thus  giving  the 
simple,  every-day  man  an  unshakable  confidence.  He  not 
only  takes  testimony,  he  weighs  the  veracity  and  intelli- 
gence of  his  witnesses  for  the  public  judgment.  Having 
erected  on  this  foundation  a  set  of  plain  principles,  he  draws 
self-evident  conclusions  and  in  his  generalization  he  shows 
every  rung  of  the  ladder  as  he  climbs.  His  style  and  dis- 
cussion are  direct  and  cumulative;  the  current  carries  him 
and  his  reader  right  onward  in  a  straight  line,  gathering 
ever  greater  force  until  the  flood  is  as  impetuous  as  the 
Amazon  and  like  it,  too,  as  broad  as  the  sea.  Facts,  ideas, 
explanations,  the  enormous  mass  of  scientific  material,  all 
are  clad  in  a  style  which,  though  harking  back  to  Thucy- 
dides,  Plautus,  and  Livy,  to  Petrach,  Dante,  and  Milton, 
contains  an  elusive  something  which  is  born  from  none 
of  these,  such  is  its  sweeping  passion,  its  irresistible 
eloquence. 

This  was  not  inspiration,  it  was  art :  the  result  of  infinite 
painstaking  and  a  set  purpose.  On  a  first  rough  draft  he 
interlined,  erased,  corrected,  inverted,  restored,  elaborated, 
until,  as  in  Balzac's  proof,  the  original  was  overlaid  with 
a  mass  of  words  illegible  to  all  except  the  author,  who  then 
at  his  leisure  wrote  his  printer's  copy  in  a  fine,  bold,  con- 
fident hand.  Prescott  saw  a  few  of  these  original  foolscap 
sheets  and  says  no  one  could  form  any  conception  of  the 
amount  of  labor  that  one  of  them  represents.     With  the 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       65 

serenity  of  a  great  soul,  with  a  religious  faith  in  the  power 
of  truth;  confident,  like  Cervantes,  that  history  was  sacred 
because  where  truth  is,  there  is  God,  he  carried  his  own 
conviction  into  the  millions  of  readers  who  were  fascinated 
by  his  art.  This  art  was  impersonal,  precise,  even  cold, 
because  it  was  based  on  accuracy,  on  the  personal  knowl- 
edge of  contemporaries,  and  not  evolved  like  that  of  Carlyle 
and  Froude  from  the  depths  of  his  own  consciousness. 

Macaulay's  contribution  to  the  science  of  history  was 
twofold:  the  knowledge,  the  insight,  and  the  sympathy, 
such  as  were  not  possible  in  the  revolutionary  epoch  pre- 
ceding iiis,  an  epoch  when,  as  his  predecessors  said,  "  hearts 
rejoice  or  bleed  "  as  contemporary  events  illume  the  past 
with  a  light  "  from  the  flames  of  Tophet  "  in  Carlyle's 
lurid  phrase, — this,  and  secondly,  the  ripened  fruit  for 
present  use,  progress  along  the  lines  of  tradition,  the  way 
to  preserve  and  improve  what  the  fathers  had  won. 

The  second  of  our  great  names  is  that  of  a  man  who 
was  still  more  remote  from  emotional  influence,  for  he  was 
not  a  man  of  affairs,  not  a  statesman,  not  an  acolyte  of  the 
social  hierarchy,  not  even  an  artist,  but  a  scholar,  an  in- 
vestigator, and  a  teacher.  Leopold  von  Ranke  revived  the 
past  in  a  spirit  which  was  largely  that  of  an  erudite  lawyer 
without  a  case.  His  intimate  friend  was  Savigny,  and  as 
for  him  it  is  the  totality  of  law  which  had  to  be  studied 
before  further  advance  could  be  made,  so  for  Ranke  it  is 
the  totality  of  history,  carefully  studied  in  the  light  of  laws 
and  institutions,  and  in  the  proportions  of  each  part,  that 
determines  the  relative  values  of  scenes  and  events,  that 
fixes  the  style  and  structural  concepts  of  historical  descrip- 
tion and  reconstruction.  When  Froude's  wild  theory  as 
to  Henry  VIII's  extraordinary  matrimonial  conduct  was 
questioned  by  the  critics,  he  replied  in  these  very  words: 
"  The  precipitancy  with  which  Henry  acted  is  to  me  a  proof 


66       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

that  he  looked  on  matrimony  as  an  indifferent  official  act 
which  his  duty  required  at  the  moment,  and  if  this  be 
thought  a  novel  interpretation  of  his  motives  I  have  merely 
to  say  that  I  liml  it  in  the  statute  book!"  Ranke  had  quite 
another  notion  of  how  official  documents  were  to  be  used, 
and  with  their  use  his  name  is  associated,  as  is  the  name 
of  scarcely  another. 

Macaulay's  ultimate  criterion  was  not  found  in  the  edicts 
and  statutes  of  rulers,  not  in  the  correspondence  of  princes 
seeking  to  deceive  each  other  and  to  falsify  the  record;  but 
in  the  consonance  of  facts  with  the  great  events  which, 
linked  one  with  the  other  and  known  by  the  common  sense 
of  mankind,  form  the  chain  of  history.  Though  he  made 
a  judicious  use  of  documents  he  had  not  the  blind  faith  in 
them  which  makes  their  devotees  ridiculous.  Nor  had 
Ranke,  though  above  all  else  he  was  a  student  of  diplomatic 
correspondence.  It  was  he  who  brought  the  archives  of 
foreign  offices  into  the  vogue  they  have  since  enjoyed 
among  historians,  his  success  being  due,  of  course,  to  his 
critical  faculties  and  his  sanity :  for  sane  lie  was,  moderate, 
modest,  and  disciplined  in  the  highest  degree.  Ranke's 
great  renown  was  firmly  founded  on  his  use  of  a  remark- 
able series  of  papers,  the  hitherto  unconsidered  series  of 
reports  addressed  to  the  Council  of  Ten  by  the  ambassadors 
of  the  Venetian  Republic.  He  might  easily  have  been 
dazzled  by  so  unique  a  find  and  have  exaggerated  its  im- 
portance out  of  all  proportion ;  but  he  knew  thoroughly  the 
times  antecedent  and  the  times  consequent  to  those  he  was 
making  his  own,  and  he  fell  into  no  errors.  The  papers 
in  hand  fixed  dates,  places,  and  circumstances,  unerringly: 
they  exhibited  the  quality,  language,  and  character  of  the 
public  business  so  as  to  permit  important  deductions;  they 
illuminated  their  age  in  the  contemporary  judgments  of 
very   shrewd  observers.      But   Ranke  never  dreamed   that 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       G7 

they  revealed  motives,  except  by  induction  :  nor  that  tliey 
determined  the  great  central  channel  of  events.  With  the 
plodding  industry  of  an  antiquary  he  felt,  groped,  peered 
around  and  in  the  obscure  corners  of  his  material  and 
brought  forth  little  particles  of  fact  which,  when  properly 
assembled  with  the  great  facts,  made  possible  the  tracing 
of  sequence  and  the  revelation  of  design. 

Philosophically  Ranke  was  inclined  to  Hegelianism.  To 
the  relations  of  a  people  with  its  habitat  he  paid  less  atten- 
tion than  his  famous  contemporary  Curtius;  the  work  of 
Buckle  and  the  physical  side  of  history  were  indifferent 
to  him.  It  was  the  cosmic  process  with  which  he  was 
mainly  concerned,  the  working  of  a  universal  spirit  as 
revealed  by  outward  manifestations.  Of  this  he  strove  to 
be  a  dispassionate,  intelligent  onlooker  and  an  accurate, 
sympathetic  observer;  a  faithful  recorder,  whether  the  rec- 
ord lends  itself  to  literature  or  not,  and  in  his  hands  for 
the  most  part  it  did  not.  Nowhere  in  his  voluminous  writ- 
ings is  there  any  passage  which  rises  to  the  heights  reached 
by  Mommsen  in  his  description  of  Caesar.  Profound  as 
was  the  scholarship  of  the  latter,  he  was  an  avowed  adr 
vocate  of  imperialism,  the  cause  for  which  he  spent  his  life, 
and  so  at  times  his  passion  lifted  him  to  sublimity :  the 
sober  Ranke  trod  the  solid  earth.  His  was  not  merely  the 
science  of  detail  like  that  of  Mommsen,  it  was  an  orderly 
array  both  of  thoughts  and  of  thoughts  about  thoughts, 
as  well  as  a  marshaling  of  facts.  For  this  reason  his 
attempts  at  a  universal  history  bear  the  stamp  of  creative 
art.  It  is  as  an  historical  architect  that  he  becomes  ap- 
proximately an  artist;  not  in  rhetoric,  imagination,  or 
enthusiasm.  Neither  an  interpreter  nor  a  critic,  his  style 
is  clear,  his  characters  forcibly  modeled,  his  definition 
exact.  He  is  bold,  but  not  too  bold,  for  prudence  is  his 
forte  and  his  foible.     It  is  thus  that  he  raises  the  spirit  of 


ijS       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

each  successive  age  and  reveals,  one  by  one,  the  hidden 
springs  of  action.  His  philosophical  dogma  cannot  always 
restrain  him,  and  there  are  pages  of  his  which  are  master- 
pieces, not  only  in  historical  reconstruction,  but  in  historical 
divination. 

Extremes  meet  in  the  w'orld  of  history  as  elsewliere. 
This  is  seen  when  Taine  avows  himself  a  disciple  of 
Macaulay,  as  he  virtually  does  in  print  and  frequently  did 
in  private  conversation.  Antipodal  in  every  respect  to  the 
Englishman,  the  Frenchman  yet  admired  Macaulay  as  the 
representative  of  everything  which  France  and  Taine  were 
not.  The  great  French  historian  was  an  embodied  con- 
tradiction, having  been  justly  styled  a  poet-logician  and 
considered  to  possess  a  philosophic  imagination.  What 
he  openly  admired  in  England  were  its  social  stratification, 
its  sturdy  Protestant  common  sense,  its  passion  for  liberty 
and  for  the  traditions  of  its  history,  its  boisterous,  proud, 
and  energetic  spirit.  For  Latin,  Celtic,  ecclesiastical, 
Roman  England  he  had  a  contemptuous  disdain :  it  was 
the  England  of  Macaulay  which  was  the  country  of  his 
soul.  But  he  could  not  there  abide,  so  pitiless  and  merciless 
was  his  logic.  His  philosophical  career  began  in  Hegel, 
passed  by  way  of  Spinoza,  and  ended  in  a  positivism  com- 
pared with  which  Comtism  was  a  weak  decoction.  His 
earliest  important  paper  was  the  outline  of  a  system 
whereby  the  methods  of  the  exact  sciences  could  be  applied 
to  history — and  from  the  effort  to  do  so  there  was  no  sur- 
cease until  he  died.  Alone  of  the  pure  materialism,  who 
make  emotion  dependent  on  the  bodily  organism  and  on 
the  nervous  system,  he  carried  his  conviction,  amounting 
almost  to  bravado,  into  the  realm  of  practice.  Others  have 
sketched  systems,  he  dared  to  apply  that  which  he  evolved. 
He  was  the  physiological  psychologist  in  the  laboratory  of 
the  world.     It  goes  without  saying  that  he  struggled  to 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       69 

the  ridge  of  the  universe  of  man  only  to  fall  over  it  into 
a  gulf  of  complete  helplessness.  Avowedly  not  a  pessimist, 
certainly  not  an  optimist,  his  studied  attitude  of  impar- 
tiality turned  into  a  feeling  of  utter  hopelessness  and  resig- 
nation which  he  could  not  conceal  and  which  seemed  to 
give  him  no  contentment ;  not  even  that  of  having  achieved. 

Yet,  as  he  marched,  he  incidentally,  like  Julius  Caesar, 
besieged  and  took  certain  flanking  citadels  in  operations 
which  have  made  the  course  of  scientific  history  much  safer 
and  surer.  His  fierce  logic  minimized  the  idea  of  common 
sense  as  the  norm  of  reference;  his  notion  of  rulers  and 
their  dispatches  rendered  him  almost  contemptous  of  state 
papers.  His  favorite  sources  were  contemporary  memoirs, 
and  these  he  used  in  great  abundance  and  with  consum- 
mate skill.  What  distinguishes  him  above  others  is  his 
careful  regard  for  physical  elements  in  history  and  the 
penetrating  glimpses  he  gets  into  its  motives  by  the  study 
of  national  psychology,  clearly  mirrored  for  him  in  national 
art  and  national  literature.  His  famous  doctrine  of  pre- 
dominant power  {faciiltc  maitressc)  set  forth  in  his  splen- 
did essay  on  Livy,  shows  that  individuals  in  a  nation  are 
begotten  and  controlled  by  primordial  forces  imposing  on 
all  certain  common  methods  of  thought  and  phases  of  feel- 
ing. Given  the  island  home  a  Germanic  race,  with  its 
peculiar  climate  and  the  rude  plenty  which  nature  supplies, 
he  boldly  sketches  step  by  step  the  course  of  English 
thought  and  conduct  as  delineated  in  her  art,  her  letters, 
and  her  institutions.  The  race,  the  home,  the  period — 
these,  if  understood,  make  history  almost  an  exact  science 
in  the  descriptive  sense:  and  in  that  only,  for  prediction 
is  carefully  to  be  avoided ;  it  is  not  the  function  of  history. 

This  judgment  is  based  on  a  passion  for  the  Exact,  and 
is  rooted  in  the  philosophy  of  sensation  to  which  Taine  was 
addicted.     As  we  know  nothing  except  by  sensation,   so 


70       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

we  know  nothing  but  phenomena.     The  only  faculties  we 
possess,  therefore,  are  those  of  analysis  and  generalization. 
Given  the  French  people,  its  environment,  and  the  succes- 
sion of  its  states,  we  can  note  every  phenomenon,  explain 
it,  and  connect  it  with  its  causes  and  its  effects.     But  we 
cannot  predict;   because,   although   we  note   the   links    we 
cannot    know    them    nor    see    how    they    are    produced : 
about  them  we  may  learn  infinitely  almost,  but  what  they 
are  and  how  they  work  we  may  never  know.     In  the  sense 
of   prediction    there   can   never   be   a    science    of   history, 
because  for  man  there  is  not  and  can  never  be  any  meta- 
physic  whatsoever.     It  has  been  wittily  said  that  in  Taine's 
efforts  to  follow  the  mathematical  curves  of  his  science, 
he  generally  found  himself  off  at  a  tangent  making  delight- 
ful  excursions   in   the  open   spaces   of  fancy   and  of   art. 
Certain  it  is  that  his  fancy  adorns  his  logic,  that  in  a  sys- 
tem  intended  to   strangle   imagination,   imagination  takes 
extensive  flights ;  and,  hovering  everywhere,  induces  on  the 
stiffest  pages  a  highly  artistic  treatment  and  an  attractive 
style.     Taine's  very  axioms  are  paradoxes :  in  the  French 
Revolution  the  orgasms  of  liberty  beget  a  despotism  fiercer 
than  that  of  the  former  days;  the   fear  of  centralization 
getting  on  the  national  nerve  created  in   the  republic  an 
organism   more  unitary  than  that  of  the  displaced   mon- 
archy;  the  classical   spirit   was   the   sire   of   that  abstract 
idealism  which  underlies  all  the  maladies  of  modern  French 
life.     To   this  sort  of   inverted   deduction   he  is   perfectly 
resigned.     He  is  quite  as  hopeless  in  the  sphere  of  the  in- 
dividual man.     It  is  the  human  beast  which  still  controls 
and  turns  the  man  into  the  "  carnivorous,  lascivious  "  brute 
we  see  about  us  in  such  overwhelming  numbers ;  or,  at  the 
other  pole,  into  the  foolish  dreamer  with  a  "  diseased  mind 
and  disordered  body."     His  detestation  for  what  is  loose 
and  disorderly  explains  what  is  perhaps  the  most  famous 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       71 

of  his  paradoxes,  when  he  declared  that  in  art  he  thought 
the  sonata  was  as  beautiful  as  a  syllogism. 

These  three  historians  all  agree  that,  admitting  what  one 
of  them  would  have  called  the  necessitarian,  the  others  the 
providential  forces  of  history, — that  yet,  upon  the  tissue 
which  they  weave,  the  pattern  is  formed  by  the  will  of 
man  in  the  exercise  of  the  choice  which  is  offered  to  him 
and  in  accordance  with  his  nature.  Even  so  extreme  a 
freethinker  as  John  Morley  admits  this.  Discoursing  of 
Burke's  analysis  of  historic  forces,  he  says :  "  History  has 
strictly  only  to  do  with  individual  men  as  the  originals,  the 
furtherers,  the  opponents,  or  the  representatives  of  some 
of  those  thousand  diverse  forces  which,  uniting  in  one  vast 
sweep,  bear  along  the  successive  generations  of  men,  as 
upon  the  broad  wings  of  seA  winds,  to  new  and  more  fertile 
shores."  To  originate,  to  further,  to  oppose,  to  represent, 
an  historic  force,  is  quite  a  sufficient  moral  responsibility 
wherewith  to  burden  even  the  greatest  men. 

So  far,  what  we  seem  to  recognize  as  the  basic  considera- 
tions of  these  men  in  regard  to  scientific  history  are  the 
following:  The  field  must  be  considered  as  a  unit;  the 
human  factors  are  no  longer  heroes,  kings,  warriors,  or 
diplomats,  merely  and  alone,  but  the  people  as  well,  in  all 
their  activities;  in  and  from  such  complexity  of  persons 
and  operations  it  appears  possible  to  disengage  not  relative 
but  absolute  truths  and  by  a  suitable  system  of  reasoning 
to  elucidate  principles  of  action  which  are  the  ripe  fruit 
amid  the  leafy  perplexity  of  the  boughs;  the  material  of 
history  proves  thus  to  be  the  results  of  comparative  study 
of  politics  above  all,  but  likewise  of  law.  institutions,  lan- 
guage, beliefs,  race,  and  geography.  The  historian  must 
proceed  with  impartial  mind,  as  far  as  his  human  limits 
permit,  to  consider  and  use  both  the  matter  and  manner 
of  his  science,  regarding  society  as  an  organism  growing 


72       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

from   within   under  external   influences,    which    act   some- 
times as  checks,  sometimes  as  a  stimulus. 

I  venture  to  think  that  whatever  be  our  judgment  of  his 
practical  success,  the  validity  of  this  procedure  was  even 
better  and  earlier  perceived  by  an  American  pupil  of 
Heeren  than  by  any  of  the  triad  of  uncommon  men  we 
have  been  considering.  And  to  all  that  they  possessed  he 
added  another  element,  the  profound  conviction  of  God 
working  in  history;  his  reading  of  "philosophy  working 
by  examples  "  was  "  God  working  by  examples."  This 
was  George  Bancroft.  Contemporary  with  Macaulay, 
Ranke,  and  Taine,  he  was  their  peer  as  scholar,  philosopher, 
or  statesman.  He  had  not  perhaps  the  imagination  of  one, 
nor  the  style  of  another,  nor  the  dispassionate  judgment 
of  another.  But  he  had  the  insight  and  sympathy  to  catch 
the  spirit  of  his  age  as  Macaulay  did — the  amazing  circu- 
lation of  his  volumes  in  all  lands  proved  it.  Utopian  and 
poetic  he  is,  yet  his  pages  neither  flash  nor  dazzle;  they 
commend  themselves  by  sobriety  of  argument  and  solidity 
of  research.  His  use  of  state  papers  was  as  extensive  as 
Ranke's,  his  appreciation  of  contemporary  memoirs  was 
as  keen  as  Taine's.  But  he  was  neither  indifferent  nor 
agnostic.  The  son  of  a  pious  Unitarian  clergyman,  he  kept 
the  Puritan  spirit  untarnished  to  the  end.  His  instinct  for 
immediacy,  for  direct  touch  with  the  springs  of  action, 
made  him  a  philosopher  from  his  youth  upward.  These 
are  his  peculiar  qualities  and  permeate  all  his  work.  With 
the  discussion  goes  the  lesson :  m  all  history,  truth  and 
justice  reign  supreme.  The  writer  of  history,  therefore, 
must  observe  two  maxims:  (1)  Distinguish  between 
original  authority  and  historical  memorials  or  aids ;  by  the 
former  we  get  a  fact  recorded  at  first  hand,  by  the  second, 
a  decision  of  principle  or  authority;  (2)  represent  every 
man  from  his  own  standpoint,  judge  him  from  your  own. 


HISTORY  OF  NINETEENTH  CENTURY       73 

These  acute  and  far-reaching  principles  were  enough  in 
themselves,  when  conscientiously  applied,  to  mark  his  work 
as  original. 

His  philosophy,  however,  was  quite  as  original.  His 
book  may  be  considered  as  a  treatise  on  the  evolution  of 
liberty  along  the  central  axis :  this  axis  is  the  land  desig- 
nated by  Providence  as  fitted  not  for  freedom's  relative 
but  for  its  absolute  development.  Its  heterogeneous  popu- 
lation brought  and  brings  from  all  other  lands  the  elements 
of  national  character,  and  by  this  compulsion  of  origins 
the  environment,  though  eliminating  all  that  cannot  be 
assimilated,  retains  all  useful  elements,  incorporating  them 
into  an  intricate  but  orderly  whole.  Hence  Bancroft's 
studies  in  universal  history,  interjected  from  time  to  time 
as  tributaries  to  the  main  narrative,  were  written  with  a 
xonsummate  skill  and  a  thorough  knowledge,  which  found 
him  readers  in  every  important  tongue  and  all  over  the 
civilized  world.  As  an  exhibit  of  the  divine  order,  he 
further  holds,  history  is  an  organic  unity,  inspired  by  con- 
stant forces.  Only  within  such  an  organization  does  the 
individual  secure  liberty,  since  there  alone  his  faculties  of 
will,  reason,  and  emotion  find  their  development  in  opera- 
''  tion,  with  and  against  the  consubstantial  faculties  of  other 
like  individuals.  Collective  man  determines  the  standards 
of  knowledge  and  of  conduct,  and  it  is  therefore  only  in 
a  democracy  that  the  possibility  of  human  perfectibility 
may  be  realized.  This  attitude  of  Bancroft's  mind  may  be 
considered  as  typically  American,  and  as  the  capstone  of 
the  system  used  and  approved  by  the  nineteenth  century  in 
writing  history.  Either  a  confidence  in  the  moral  order  of 
the  universe  and  in  God  as  its  author  is  the  motive  power  of 
our  rulers,  the  greatest  contemporary  history-makers ;  or  we 
who  profess  it  and  elect  them  to  office  are  vile  hypocrites 
with  a  portion  among  the  deceits  and  mirages  of  history. 


74       POLITICAL  AND  ECONOMIC  HISTORY 

The  conclusions  here  presented  will  stand  the  test  of  the 
minutest  examination  bestowed  on  the  best  work  by  typical 
inasters  other  than  those  we  have  named.  Further,  a  fair 
analysis  of  their  theory,  procedure,  and  art,  will,  I  believe, 
compel  the  admission  that  if  the  age  has  won  anything  it 
has  won  everything.  Grounded  in  the  concept  of  organic 
evolution,  receptive  of  all  ancillary  learning,  jealous  of  its 
own  field  and  methods,  alert  for  typical  movements  and 
truly  great  men,  aiming  at  a  kind  of  representation  which 
is  possibly  but  not  necessarily  that  of  the  fine  arts,  history 
as  now  written  is  scientific,  not  as  a  philosophy  of  social 
evolution  nor  as  an  exact  science  of  nature,  human  or 
otherwise,  but  as  a  practical  form  of  human  biography 
drawn  and  modeled  in  correct  proportion  and  outline. 
There  is  boundless  room  for  advance  in  supplement,  com- 
pletion, illustration,  but  the  plan  has  been  sketched  and 
the  basis  laid.  Some  portions  of  the  great  advance  have 
even  been  completely  shown  to  move  in  perspective  and  in 
color.  Either  this  achievement  is  all,  or  it  is  nothing;  and 
our  descendants  must  raze  everything  in  order  to  begin 
anew  the  weary  search  for  truth  among  the  ruins  of  the 
past. 


THE  EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY. 

BY  JOHN    PENTLAND   MAIIAFFY 

[John  Pentlakd  Mahaffy,  Professor  of  Ancient  History,  University 
of  Dublin,  since  1871.  b.  Chaponnaire,  on  Lake  Geneva,  Switzer- 
land, 1839.  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  B.  A.  1859;  M.A.  1863; 
Fellow,  ibid.  18G4;  D.D.  ibid.  1886;  Mus.D.  ibid.  1891.  Author 
OF  Commentary  to  Kant's  Critique;  Social  Life  in  Greece  from 
Homer  to  Menander;  Rambles  and  Studies  in  Greece;  A  History 
of  Classical  Greek  Literature;  The  Story  of  Alexander's  Empire; 
The  Greek  World  under  Roman  Sway;  Problems  in  Greek  His- 
tory; The  Empire  of  the  Ptolemies.] 

Mr.  Chairman,  and  Gentlemen. — I  feel  it  no  small 
honor  to  be  selected  for  the  prominent  duty  of  delivering 
an  opening  address  on  this  momentous  occasion.  For  we 
may  call  it  a  great  intellectual  marriage  of  Europe  with 
America,  to  which  all  the  sciences,  both  historical  and  posi- 
tive, are  invited  with  equal  hospitality.  And  thus  while 
some  are  sending  their  inquiries  across  vast  realms  of  space, 
others  like  ourselves  are  reaching  back  across  millenniums 
of  time;  while  some  are  probing  the  constitution  of  the 
minutest  atoms  of  matter,  others  like  ourselves  are  explor- 
ing the  rudiments  of  human  society.  Both  studies  are 
essential  to  the  progress  of  this  our  twentieth  century. 
For  if  the  civilized  man  differs  broadly  from  the  savage,  in 
that  he  is  in  process  of  understanding  and  controlling  the 
forces  of  nature,  he  differs  more  essentially  perhaps  in  this, 
that  he  strives  with  eager  interest  to  comprehend  the  annals 
of  the  past — the  long  struggles,  the  successes,  the  failures 
of  our  forerunners  to  emerge  from  a  condition  a  little 
higher  than  the  brute  into  a  condition  a  little  lower  than 
the  angels.  This  vast  study  is  of  necessity  to  be  prosecuted 
in  compartments,  if  for  no  other  reason  because  our  race 
has  been  fertile  in  devising  languages,  wherever  human 
society  began  its  organization.     Their  number  is  enormous. 

75 


76      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

The  best  judges.  Terrien  de  la  Couperie.  Archibald  Sayce, 
•have  told  me  that  there  are  not  less  than  eight  hundred 
known,  not  to  speak  of  the  hundreds  that  may  have  dis- 
appeared. And  without  knowledge  of  his  speech,  we  can 
gain  but  a  superficial  knowledge  of  the  speaker.  Our 
happy  lot  in  this  Section  is  to  be  concerned  with  Greek — 
not  only  the  most  perfect  of  all  the  organs  of  communica- 
tion ever  devised  by  man,  but  one  in  which  our  knowledge 
has  in  this  generation  attained  an  enormous  expansion,  in- 
somuch that  our  investigation  of  that  people  and  its  civiliza- 
tion has  been  as  progressive  as  any  study  that  could  be 
named.  The  number  of  new  texts  discovered  is  such  that 
no  living  man  can  know  them  all.  Each  one  of  us  that  has 
explored  has  added  scores  of  new  words  to  the  Greek  Lexi- 
con, dozens  of  new  facts  to  our  knowledge  of  the  Greeks; 
and  so  we  may  say  with  truth,  that  while  the  literature  of 
the  other  great  classical  language,  Latin,  has  stood  still, 
or  gained  but  trifling  increment,  Greek  is  growing  by  leaps 
and  bounds,  giving  the  lie  to  the  narrow  scientist,  who 
would  thrust  it  from  its  high  place  in  our  education,  because 
it  has  been  branded  in  the  false  jargon  of  his  crowd  as  a 
dead  language.  My  duty  here  is  to  show  you  the  relations 
which  have  grown  up  between  Greek  political  history  and 
the  sister  studies  in  our  day;  how  fruitful  researches  and 
explorations  have  told  upon  our  knowledge  of  Greek  his- 
tory, and  more  especially  how  the  centuries  that  went  before 
and  those  that  followed  after  the  golden  age  of  Greek  cul- 
ture are  emerging  both  from  the  gray  dawn  of  obscure 
origins  and  the  lurid  twilight  of  confused  decadence^  into 
the  order  and  proper  sequence  of  rational  history.  In  at- 
tempting this  huge  task  I  hope  I  may  gain  your  earnest 
attention.  I  know  you  will  vouchsafe  me  your  generous 
indulgence.  I  may  also  forewarn  you  that,  for  obvious 
reasons,   Professor  Pais,   my  colleague  in  the  matter,  has 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  77 

agreed  with  me  that  each  of  us  will  prosecute  that  brancli 
of  the  subject  which  he  has  made  the  special  study  of  his 
life. 

When  I  was  a  boy  and  first  plunged  into  Greek  history, 
the  beginning  of  our  knowledge  was  the  Iliad  of  Homer. 
We  were  taught  by  Niebuhr,  and  still  more  explicity  by 
Grote,  that  all  the  legends  of  the  Greeks  concerning  their 
earlier  settlements  and  expansion  were  the  mere  play  of 
fancy,  quite  possibly  pure  inventions,  in  any  case  only 
admissible  into  history  as  a  picture  of  the  national  mind  in  a 
certain  stage,  at  a  certain  epoch.  Even  the  facts  narrated 
by  Homer  were  within  the  range  of  fiction;  the  society 
which  he  painted  was  only  real  in  so  far  as  the  poet  reflected 
his  own  times  and  the  life  of  men  around  him.  And  no 
doubt  Grote  and  his  school  were  perfectly  right  that  the  un- 
corroborated statements  of  legend  by  a  poet,  nay,  even  the 
early  genealogies  which  commence  with  the  gods,  are  but 
the  wreck  which  the  stream  of  time  leaves  about  some 
chance  obstacle  that  succeeds  in  staying  its  course.  Thus 
we  arrived  at  the  skepticism  of  Sir  George  Cox  and  Sir 
George  Lewis,  in  my  youth  very  active  volcanoes,  but  now 
happily  extinct,  that  no  Greek  history  is  credible  till  after 
the  middle  of  the  seventh  century,  b.  c;  and  I  myself  have 
contributed  my  share  in  showing  that  the  early  Olympic 
Register  was  not  the  contemporary  and  continuous  record 
of  early  facts,  but  the  fabrication  of  a  learned  theorist. 
And  this  destructive  criticism  of  mine,  bowed  aside  as  a 
paradox  when  it  appeared,  is  accepted  by  the  recent  his- 
torians as  a  pretty  obvious  deduction  from  our  facts,  either 
with  or  without  the  mention  of  the  critic  who  first  ventured 
to  declare  it. 

But  have  we  now  no  corroboration  of  our  body  of  early 
Greek  legends,  and  if  we  have,  from  whence  did  we  obtain 
it  ?     The  man,  Schliemann,  who  opens  the  last  epoch  of  re- 


78      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

search  into  early  Greek  history,  was  not  a  scholar,  or  a  man 
of  literary  habits,  but  a  man  of  enthusiasm  for  Homer,  and 
of  boundless  energy  in  carrying-  out  his  mind.  He  had 
shown  his  ability  by  making  a  large  fortune  early  in  life 
out  of  nothing  but  his  brains,  and  when  I  tell  you  that  he 
made  most  of  it  in  this  country,  and  as  a  stranger,  you  have 
at  least  one  measure  of  his  talent  which  you  will  easily 
appreciate.  He  had  the  singularity  to  devote  half  of  that 
fortune  to  exploring  the  Homeric  sites,  and  thus  proving 
the  historic  value  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey.  And  he  went 
to  work  with  the  spade,  at  first  ignorantly,  for  he  dug  holes, 
which  is  the  most  destructive  form  of  inquiry  known,  in- 
stead of  taking  off  layers  or  strata  of  earth,  as  he  learned  to 
do  in  his  later  years.  He  found  less  than  he  expected  or 
believed,  so  far  as  he  hoped  to  find  and  thought  he  had 
found  the  actual  tombs  of  Agamemnon  and  Clytemnestra, 
or  any  direct  evidence  of  the  Homeric  story.  But  when 
Homer  speaks  of  the  fortified  Tiryns,  the  much  golden 
Mykenas,  the  sacred  Ilion,  Schliemann  found  far  more  than 
he  had  ever  divined ;  for  he  disclosed  to  the  astonished 
Hellenists  of  his  day  a  whole  rich  primitive  civilization, 
which  subsequent  exploration  found  to  be  not  peculiar  to 
Argolis,  but  spread  over  most  of  Greece,  being  carried  by 
trade  oversea  across  the  ^gean,  and  recurring  even  in  dis- 
tant Egypt.  This  Mykenccan  civilization,  as  we  now  call 
it,  is  known  by  its  handicrafts  and  arts,  above  all  by  its 
pottery,  its  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  its  beehive  tombs, 
its  elaborate  palaces.  And  so  wide  were  its  ranges  in 
transmarine  commerce,  that  we  have  found  not  only  Egyp- 
tian scarabs,  but  ostrich  eggs  from  inner  Africa,  and  Baltic 
amber  among  its  treasures.  Three  questions  were  immedi- 
ately raised  concerning  this  large  discovery :  first,  how  old 
was  it?  secondly,  was  it  identical  with  Homer's  civilization, 
or  not?     And  if  not,  was  it  indeed  Greek?     Its  great  age 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  79 

was  settled  not  merely  by  the  archaic  character  of  its  art, 
and  its  very  small  use  of  iron,  but  still  more  clearly  by  the 
occurrence  of  early  Eg^yptian  articles,  dating  from  about 
1400-1200  B.  c,  and  showing  that  intercourse  of  Egypt 
with  Greece  was  far  older  than  the  Homeric  age.  There 
was  also  this  negative  evidence,  which  I  alone  had  pressed 
on  Schliemann  before  he  commenced  his  work.  I  inferred 
from  the  total  ignoring  of  Mykense  by  ^schylus,  whose 
tragedies  ought  to  have  been  enacted  there,  that  in  his  day 
the  practical  knowledge  of  the  city  was  gone,  and  that  it 
had  already  then  been  long  destroyed.  I  forewarned  him 
that  he  would  find  there  no  Greek  coins  or  inscriptions.  He 
found  no  writing  of  any  sort  whatever.  But  as  we  now 
know  that  in  the  old  Cretan  remains  the  inscriptions  were 
on  clay  tablets,  which  are  easily  destroyed  by  exposure  to 
rain,  I  think  it  possible  that  he  may  have  overlooked  some 
such  documents.^ 

As  regards  the  correspondence  of  the  remains  with 
Homeric  pictures,  the  contrasts  seem  to  me  rather  greater 
than  the  likenesses.  The  armor  was  undoubtedly  the  model 
of  the  Homeric  weapons ;  the  tombs  have  some  Greek  feat- 
ures ;  but  on  the  whole,  the  question  whether  the  epoch  was 
one  of  purely  primitive  culture,  or  of  something  earlier 
passing  into  early  Greek  culture,  was  left  very  doubtful. 
A  better  knowledge  of  the  Troy  that  Schliemann  has  ex- 
cavated, and  of  the  remains  of  Cnosos  in  Crete,  now  in  the 
act  of  being  recovered  for  us  by  the  zeal  and  skill  of  Mr. 
Arthur  Evans,  have  thrown  much  light  upon  these  in- 
cunabula of  Greek  history.  The  most  interesting  point 
regarding  the  Trojan  work  recovered  by  Schliemann  was 
its  great  rudeness,  when  compared  with  that  of  Tiryns  and 
Mykenae.  For  the  Homeric  poems  had  led  us  to  believe 
that  the  culture  of  Troy  was  fully  as  advanced  as  that  of 

1  That  is  Mr.  Arthur  Evans's  opinion  also. 


so      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

the  invading  Greeks.  We  owe  to  Dr.  Dorpfeld  the  further 
discovery  that  the  Ihos  of  SchHemann  was  not  the  sister 
in  time  of  •Mykense,  but  an  older  and  deeper  stratum,  and 
proDably  one  thousand  years  earlier.  The  Mykenaean 
stratum,  through  which  Schliemann  had  pierced  without 
recognizing  it^  w-as  found  on  a  higher  level  all  around 
Schhemann's  excavations,  and  was  found  also  in  every  way 
to  correspond  to  the  Greek  work  of  the  Mykenaean  period. 
This  proved  that  an  enormously  old  culture  had  taken  pos- 
session of  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  that  even 
the  Mykenaean  inherited  from  a  long  series  of  spiritual  an- 
cestors the  culture  which  seems  to  us  so  archaic.^  The  dis- 
coveries of  Mr.  Evans  not  only  tended  (as  usual)  to  cor- 
roborate the  general  features  of  the  Greek  legends  about 
King  Minos,  for  example,  his  sea  power,  shown  by  his  un- 
fortified palace  near  the  seaboard,  but  proved  that  at  this 
early  stage  two  hitherto  unsuspected  forms  of  writing,  one 
in  rude  pictures,  the  other  in  linear  script,  were  in  use  in 
Crete,  and  doubtless  therefore  throughout  the  coasts  of  the 
eastern  Mediterranean.  If  these  texts,  scratched  or  im- 
pressed upon  clay  tablets,  and  certainly,  I  think,  not  Greek, 
are  ever  deciphered,  we  shall  know  more  clearly  the  char- 
acter and  the  provenance  of  the  race  that  inhabited  these 
coasts  and  islands  during  the  second  millenium  before  the 
Christian  era.  In  my  opinion  that  race  will  prove  to  be 
non-Hellenic,  and  even  non-Aryan,  so  that  the  boast  of  the 
Athenians  and  other  Greeks  that  they  were  an  indigenous 
race  wn'll  be  once  more  refuted.^ 


'  Under  the  lava  of  a  prehistoric  eruption  from  that  great  submarine  and  still 
active  volcano,  of  which  Santorin  and  Therasia  (the  ancient  Thera)  form  the 
outward  slopes,  there  were  found  thirty  years  ago  the  remains  of  what  wae 
aptly  called  by  the  French  a  prehistoric  Pompeii — human  bones  within  rude 
houses,  with  remains  of  rude  pottery,  and  even  gold  ornaments. 

"  But  I  must  warn  you  that  excellent  authorities,  Rohde,  Reisch,  think  dlf' 
ferently,  and  think  the  Mykenfpan  builders  the  direct  ancestors  of  the  Homerli: 
Greeks.  On  the  other  hand  Mr.  Ridgeway,  in  his  most  rmarkable  unfinished 
book,  The  Early  Age  of  Oreece,  while  he  maintains  that  the  earlier  race  dif' 
fered  materially  from  the  Achteans  of  Homer, — he  calls  them  Pelasgians, — yet 
regards  them  as  Aryan. 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  81 

But  here  the  historian  has  recourse  not  to  artistic  remains, 
to  pottery,  or  to  building,  but  to  the  evidence  of  the  sister 
sciences  of  anthropology,  and  still  more  of  linguistics.  The 
former  science  has  yielded  but  poor  results.  The  variety 
of  the  physical  types  of  skulls  is  such  that  we  can  only  infer 
a  great  mixture  of  races  in  Greece,  without  the  prodomi- 
nance  of  either  Aryan  or  pre-Aryan  types.  Such  at  least  is 
the  conclusion  of  Paul  Kretschmer,  whose  work  on  primi- 
tive Greece  embodies  most  of  the  latest  knowledge.^  The 
results  of  linguistic  inquiry  are  far  more  important.  Start- 
ing from  the  fact  that  there  are  elements,  in  the  old  Greek 
that  we  know,  still  inexplicable,  that  there  are  formations 
of  place-names  which  have  all  the  air  of  being  non-Aryan, 
Kretschmer  has  compared  the  relics  we  have  of  the  lan- 
guages of  Asia  Minor,  excluding  those  of  the  Aryan  type. 
His  conclusion  is  that  inter-related  languages  of  a  non- 
Aryan  type  were  spread  all  over  the  seaboard  of  Asia 
Minor,  and  that  the  features  of  these  languages  which  re- 
main are  also  to  be  found  in  Hellenic  place-names.^  Hence 
the  science  of  language  warrants  us  in  assuming  that  Aryan 
invaders  found  all  over  Greece  and  Asia  Minor  an  earlier 
population  with,  if  not  unity,  at  least  kinship,  in  the  gram- 
matical structure  of  their  speech,  and  therefore  probably 
not  primitive  or  savage,  but  provided  with  some  degree 
of  civilization.  Hence  the  earliest  Greek  culture,  even 
if  Cretan  and  Mykensean  work  were  Greek,  may  be  re- 
garded as  a  composite  civilization,  and  the  fascinating  task 
of  future  inquirers  will  be  to  assign  to  the  different  layers 
of  population  their  respective  shares  in  the  great  result. 
In  such  investigations  all  the  sister  sciences  must  lend  a 
hand  to  the  historian — linguistics,  anthropolog)',  archaeo- 
logy, and  above  all  he  must  possess  that  highest  quality  in 


^  Einleit.  in  die  Oesch.  der  griech.  Sprache  (GSttingen,  1896),  cap.  n. 
"Op.  at.  p.  292. 


82      HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  ROME  AND  ASIA 

any  scientific  man,  the  imagination  which  combines  facts, 
which  strikes  out  theories,  which  makes  research  methodical 
by  bringing-  it  under  fixed  and  leading  ideas,  which  turns 
the  valley  of  dry  bones  into  the  habitation  of  living  men. 
The  ancient  times  of  Greek  history  are  therefore  a  pro- 
gressive study,  in  the  truest  sense  of  the  word.  Grote  dis- 
carded the  myths  as  evidence,  he  even  ignored  the  living 
testimony  of  the  everlasting  hills  and  the  many  voices  of 
the  ever-intruding  sea,  and  wrote  his  great  work  in  a  Lon- 
don study.  E.  Curtius,  a  generation  later,  equipped  himself 
by  long  residence  and  travel  in  the  glens  and  fiords  of 
Greece,  and  if  in  political  understanding  he  was  far  inferior 
to  the  English  statesman,  in  picturesqueness,  and  in  his 
feeling  for  the  real  life  behind  the  myths,  he  made  a  long 
step  in  advance.  Another  generation  passes  b}^  and  we 
have,  among  many  able  books,  the  newest  and  best  in  the 
history  of  Mr.  Bury.  His  opening  chapters  seem  centur- 
ies ahead  of  Grote,  generations  ahead  of  Curtius.  For  in 
the  last  twenty  years  exca\'ations  in  many  parts  of  Greece 
have  added  masses  of  new  evidence.  Egyptology  and  gen- 
eral linguistics  have  contributed  their  share,  and  as  the  force 
of  genius  in  the  individual  brings  up  from  the  darkness  of 
the  sub-conscious  self  the  long-forgotten  lessons  of  the  past, 
so  the  power  of  Minos,  the  long  succession  of  human  homes 
on  the  hill  of  Ilion,  the  builders  of  the  great  fort  of  Tiryns, 
are  rising  from  prehistoric  night  into  the  morning  of  Greek 
history. 

Let  us  now  return  from  our  odyssey  into  Cimmerian 
darkness,  and  from  visiting  the  shadows  of  departed  heroes, 
to  the  shores  of  historic  Greece,  and  inquire  whether  mod- 
ern genius  and  modern  industry  have  not  added  something 
to  that  more  precise  knowledge  which  we  owe  to  the  liter- 
ature of  the  classical  epoch.  And  here,  too,  we  shall  find 
that  the  gain  is  momentous,  and  the  promise  of  future  in- 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  83 

crenient  fair  beyond  our  hopes.  But  that  is  so  because  our 
whole  method  of  investigation  has  been  enlarged,  and  be- 
cause we  have  developed  the  relations  of  Greek  philology 
and  history  to  many  kindred  researches.  We  do  not  in- 
deed grow  weary  of  analyzing  and  commenting  on  our 
Greek  historians,  though  that  process  has  been  likened  to 
the  squeezing  of  the  last  drops  of  juice  frum  the  exhausted 
lemon.  But  since  we  learned  from  our  early  travelers, 
notably  from  Colonel  Leake,  that  Greek  histor}'  must  be 
studied  in  Greece;  since  the  French  government,  more  than 
half  a  century  ago,  took  the  lead  in  founding  an  archaeo- 
logical school  at  Athens,  the  spade  and  the  measuring-rod 
have  been  applied  to  verify  and  correct  the  narratives  of 
Herodotus,  Thucydides,  and  Xenophon.  A  crowd  of  in- 
scriptions have  been  extracted  from  the  soil,  or  from  medie- 
val walls  into  which  they  were  built.  The  modern  writer 
dare  not  put  his  pen  to  paper  without  searching  the  great 
collections  of  these  inscriptions,  to  which  the  learned  jour- 
nals are  perpetually  adding  fresh  material.  For  in  imita- 
tion of  the  French,  the  Germans  and  the  Greeks  have  en- 
dowed their  archaeological  schools,  and  produce  their  Trans- 
actions in  Athens.  The  English  and  the  Americans  have 
followed  suit  with  private  enterprise,  and  so  a  large  body 
of  experts  has  been  let  loose  upon  the  country,  and  has 
added  to  the  capital  enterprise  of  Schliemann  at  Mykenae 
and  Argos  many  careful  investigations  at  Athens,  Olympia, 
Delphi,  Delos,  Megalopolis,  the  Argive  Heraeum,  and  a 
dozen  other  sites.  All  these  have  yielded  us  topographical, 
historical,  and  social  evidence  Our  difficulty  now  is  not 
only  to  find,  but  to  compass  the  evidence  which  is  accruing, 
and  which  is  scattered  through  a  number  of  learned  journals, 
such  as  the  French  Bulletin  de  correspondence  hellenique, 
the  German  Mittheilungen  des  archeologischen  Instituts, 
the  English  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies,  to  mention  but 


84      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

three  out  of  many.  The  men  who  have  by  universal  con- 
sent done  most  for  the  better  understanding  of  Greek  his- 
tory are  not  llie  Greek  professors  at  home,  but  the  brilHant 
directors  of  the  French  and  the  German  schools,  v.ho  have 
been  able  to  indulge  their  genius  with  ample  appointments 
and  with  the  experience  of  many  years  of  splendid  industry. 
It  is  of  course  imix)ssible  for  me  in  this  general  discourse 
to  turn  aside  to  the  particular  inc[uiries  which  have  thrown 
light  on  particular  points  of  Greek  history.  The  excellence 
of  these  studies  consists  in  their  minute  and  accurate  detail. 
I  need  only  quote,  as  specimens,  the  masterly  analysis  of 
the  Greek  theatre  derived  from  a  comparative  study  of 
divers  extant  remains  by  Dr.  Dorpfeld ;  the  same  author's 
rehandling  of  the  famous  topographical  chapter  in  Thucy- 
dides  concerning  the  surroundings  of  the  Athenian  Acropx- 
olis,  the  demonstration  by  Mr.  Grundy  that  Thucydides 
could  be  as  fallible  as  any  ordinary  writer  in  his  account 
of  the  bay  of  Pylos,  of  the  siege  of  Plataea,  or  in  his  copy 
of  a  now  extant  inscription. 

If  you  want  to  estimate  the  results  in  an  easy  and  obvious 
way,  compare  any  guide-book  to  Greece  of  ten  years  old 
with  the  newest  editions  of  the  same  work.  Nothing  now 
gets  antiquated  so  quickly.  But  if  you  want  larger  and 
more  splendid  e\idence  of  what  recent  research  has  done 
for  our  knowledge  of  Greece,  read  Mr.  Frazer's  monu- 
mental edition  of  Pausanias.  Twenty  years  ago,  nay,  even 
ten  years  ago.  such  a  work  would  have  been  impossible.  Nor 
could  it  have  been  done  at  any  other  time  ever  since  the 
decadence  of  the  Roman  Empire,  But  now  Mr,  Frazer  has 
been  able  to  go  over  the  cities  and  monuments  described  by 
the  old  tourist  and  antiquary  of  the  second  century,  and 
gives  us,  in  most  cases,  if  not  in  all,  verifications  and  illus- 
trations from  the  excavations  of  our  own  day. 

It  might  be  imagined  that  these  discoveries  affect  almost 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  85 

exclusively  our  knowledge  of  the  art  side  of  Greek  life. 
That  is  not  so.  The  many  recovered  inscriptions  tell  us  of 
wars  and  of  treaties,  of  laws  and  of  rites,  and  of  the  social 
life  of  the  people  which  we  can  restore  in  the  ruins  of  their 
temples,  their  theatres,  and  their  homes.  And  let  not  the 
title  of  this  Department,  Political  and  Economic  History, 
blind  you  to  the  fact  that  without  the  social  life  and  the  art 
of  a  people  history  will  ever  be  dull  and  lifeless.  The 
Hermes  of  Praxiteles,  the  bronze  charioteer  of  Delphi,  the 
great  tomb  of  Sidon — all  these  are  as  important  in  under- 
standing Greek  history  as  are  the  constitution  of  Athens  or 
the  currency  of  Rhodes.  We  live,  therefore,  in  an  era  of 
expansion  even  of  the  golden  age  of  Greece,  an  expansion 
in  depth,  or  in  quality  of  knowledge,  even  more  than  in  the 
multiplication  of  facts,  such  as  Europe  has  not  seen  since 
the  Renaissance,  and  such  as  may  never  again  recur,  when 
the  present  still  untouched  sites  have  been  disclosed  and  the 
testimony  of  statues  and  of  stelae  has  been  exhausted.  But 
of  this  limit  there  is  no  prospect  in  our  generation,  or  i>er- 
haps  for  half  a  century  to  come. 

I  have  not  yet  said  one  word  concerning  our  gains  of  the 
last  decade  in  the  matter  of  Greek  literature,  which  is,  after 
all,  the  department  of  human  culture  in  which,  most  of  all, 
the  modern  world  owes  great  and  everlasting  obligations  to 
Hellas.  The  types  of  the  epic,  of  the  lyric  poem,  of  the 
drama,  of  the  prose  dialogue,  of  the  oration,  have  been 
fixed  by  the  Greeks  forever,  and  shown  to  us  in  specimens 
of  a  perfection  seldom  equaled,  never  excelled.  If  I  have 
set  down  our  gains  in  this  literature  last,  it  is  not  that  their 
importance  is  not  paramount,  but  because  the  manner  of 
their  recovery  leads  us  to  the  third  part  of  my  discourse — 
the  extension  of  Greek  history  into  later  times  and  other 
societies  than  those  of  the  golden  age;  for  the  consideration 
of  our   gains   will   naturally  lead  us   to   the   manner  and 


86      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

method  by  which  these  gains  were  made.  And  in  the  first 
place,  what  have  we  acquired  ?  In  actual  texts  complete, 
or  partially  complete,  we  now  have  the  ]Mimes  of  Herondas, 
dramatic  sketches  of  low  or  vulgar  life,  such  as  the  Dutch 
Teniers  has  given  us  with  his  brush.  We  have  most  of 
the  Constitution  of  Athens,  a  tract  ascribed  to  Aristotle  and 
often  quoted  as  such  by  Plutarch.  We  have  some  of  the 
Odes  of  Bacchylides,  the  lesser  contemporary  of  Pindar, 
and,  what  is  far  more  valuable,  among  them  specimens  of 
the  dithyramb,  a  form  of  poetry  much  cited  by  the  ancients, 
but  never  understood  till  this  discovery.  We  have  the 
Persians  of  Timotheus,  another  to  us  novel  form  of  poem 
composed  for  an  elaborate  musical  illustration,  somewhat 
like  the  Italian  opera,  and  rivaling  the  texts  of  that  opera  in 
its  tenth-rate  quality.  But  when  music  is  fitted  to  verse,  it 
is  but  seldom  the  setting  of  perfect  music  unto  noble  words, 
of  which  the  poet  dreams.  One  partner  becomes  predomi- 
nant. Let  us  hope  for  the  sake  of  Timotheus,  for  the  sake 
of  the  public  of  whom  he  was  the  idol,  that  in  this  case,  as 
in  that  of  Richard  Wagner,  the  music  was  the  real  attrac- 
tion. But  I  must  refrain  from  criticism.  The  works  just 
named  are  all  incoiuplete  or  shattered  in  some  part,  for  the 
exterior  of  the  papyrus  rolls  on  which  they  were  written 
could  hardl}'  fail  to  have  been  affected  by  long  centuries  of 
burial  or  by  the  hands  of  ignorant  finders.  But  they  give 
us  enough  to  judge  both  the  works  and  their  authors.  Of 
lesser  fragments,  stray  pages,  single  scenes  of  plays,  or  even 
of  n,usic-hall  farces,  elegant  extracts,  epigrams,  we  have  a 
whole  library.  Almost  every  known  Greek  author,  and  a 
great  number  of  unknown,  are  represented  in  these  newly 
acquired  texts. 

It  is  of  course  known  to  you  all  that  this  treasure  comes 
from  Egypt,  not  Greece,  and  was  preserved  by  the  Greek- 
speaking  population  of  that  important  branch  of  Hellenism, 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  87 

from  Ptolemaic  to  late  Roman  days.  The  life  of  these 
Greek  settlements  in  Eg>-pt,  with  their  language,  their 
books,  their  traditions  all  from  Greece,  are  now  a  vital  chai>- 
ter  even  in  the  political  and  economic  history  of  the  nation. 
Among  the  literary  remains  are  innumerable  business  docu- 
ments, official  orders,  every-day  correspondence,  copies  of 
wills  and  of  contracts — all  Hellenic  in  language  and  origin, 
and  pointing  back  to  the  classical  culture  of  the  mother 
country.  Here  indeed  we  have  a  perfectly  unexpected  and 
notable  specimen  of  what  the  conquests  of  Alexander  prcn 
duced  in  foreign  lands — of  that  Hellenism  which  is  at  last 
commanding  the  attention  of  classical  scholars.  For  there 
is  every  reason  to  think  that  these  Greek  settlements,  in  the 
midst  of  a  native  population,  were  not  exceptional,  but 
typical  of  what  Alexander  projected  and  his  followers 
effected  all  over  the  East.  Not  only  on  the  shores  of  the 
Euxine,  where  there  were  long  since  Hellenic  cities,  which 
communicated  with  Greece  by  sea,  but  all  through  the  body 
of  Asia  Minor,  notably  in  Syria  and  Palestine,  in  Mesopo- 
tamia along  the  Tigris  and  Euphrates,  nay,  even  on  the 
OxiiS,  and  within  range  of  the  Turanian  steppes,  there  were 
established  settlements  of  Greek  soldiers  and  traders,  with 
privileges  to  attract  them  there,  but  also  with  the  duty  of 
guarding  the  new  Greek  civilization  of  the  East  from  moun- 
tain robbers  and  from  national  revolts.  I  know  not  what 
the  possibilities  are  of  successful  excavations  in  Syria — on 
the  site  of  Antioch  ruined  by  so  many  earthquakes,  of 
Apamea,  of  Baalbec,  of  Gerasa.  in  the  Decapolis  of  Judaea. 
But  of  this  I  feel  sure,  in  that  crowd  of  settlements  made 
under  the  Seleucid  house,  both  of  IMacedonians  and  of 
Greeks,  the  evidences  we  should  find  would  be  of  the  same 
character  as  those  of  the  Fayum.  We  should  find  that  the 
Graeco-Macedonian  settlers,  including  the  Persians,  who 
were  distinctly  admitted  to  the  ruling  caste,  lived  in  the 


88      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

midst  of  the  aborigines,  trading  with  them,  intermarrying 
with  them,  quarreHng  with  them,  while  they  were  protected 
from  absorption  by  their  Hellenistic  speech,  and  by  special 
courts  conducted  according  to  Hellenistic  law.  The  dis- 
coveries of  the  last  fifteen  years,  inaugurated,  I  am  proud  to 
say,  by  the  two  volumes  of  Petrie  Papyri  which  it  was  my 
unique  good  fortune  to  lay  before  the  world,  have  mani- 
fested to  us  an  aspect  of  the  Hellenic  mind  of  which  we 
knew  but  little  in  former  days.  True  it  was  that  these 
outlying  settlements,  living  as  the  Hungarians  do  among 
the  Slovaks,  or  the  Germans  among  the  Poles,  kept  up  their 
aristocracy  of  intellect,  as  well  as  of  race,  by  the  constant 
reading  of  the  old  Greek  masterpieces.  It  is  through  the 
fragments  recovered  from  them  that  we  now  know  what 
the  texts  of  Homer,  and  Pindar,  and  Euripides,  and  Plato, 
and  Demosthenes  were  like  in  the  second  and  third  centur- 
ies before  Christ;  and  let  me  add  that  if  there  is  ample 
evidence  of  the  considerable  rehandling  and  reediting  of 
the  Homeric  text  in  the  second  century  b.  c.  which  tradition 
long  since  ascribed  to  the  great  Alexandrian  critics,  we  have 
also  indisputable  proof  that  in  the  rest  our  medieval  copies 
represent  with  excellent  fidelity  the  great  masters  as  they 
were  read  in  these  early  books.  It  is  not,  however,  the 
establishing  of  our  old  faith  in  the  great  classics  against  the 
suspicions  of  tampering  and  of  corruptionwhich  concerns  me 
here.  It  is  rather  the  new  and  interesting  fact  in  this  fresh 
appendix  (if  I  may  so  call  it)  to  our  Greek  histories,  that 
of  these  people  we  have  not  only  the  classical  books  they 
read,  we  have  the  papers  of  everyday  life.  We  now  know 
how  they  made  their  marriage  settlements  and  their  wills, 
their  loans  and  their  contracts,  their  reports  and  their  com- 
plaints; we  have  now  an  insight  into  their  official  systems 
of  taxation  and  administration,  their  banking  and  their  gen- 
eral finance.     These  are  commonplace  matters.     These  let- 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  89 

ters  and  reports  cannot  be  called  literature.  But  they  are 
?iistory,  and  an  expansion  of  Greek  history  of  the  highest 
interest.  There  were  no  doubt  Egyptian  features,  as  there 
were  Persian  features  and  Syrian  features  elsewhere  in  this 
civilization,  but  the  whole  of  it  bears  the  impress  of  the  one 
great  nationality  which  stamped  it  upon  the  world.  It  has 
been  well  shown  by  more  than  one  modern  historian^  that 
even  the  oriental  reactions  against  the  West,  even  the  Indian 
and  Parthian  monarchies  that  repudiated  Hellenism,  owed  a 
great  part  of  their  strength  to  the  new  life  which  Alexander 
brought  into  the  disorganized  systems  of  the  East;  it  is 
perhaps  more  remarkable  that  a  Prussian  government 
official,  examining  the  bureaus  and  the  red  tape  of  the  Greek 
papyri,  can  tell  us  that  all  the  official  life  of  our  own  day, 
with  the  exception  perhaps  of  the  transmission  of  checks 
through  private  hands,  can  be  found  among  the  Greeks  of 
two  thousand  years  ago.^  It  is  an  inheritance  from  them 
through  the  Roman  Empire,  which  few  of  us  had  suspected. 
Not  till  we  unearthed  the  clay  figurines  from  Tanegra  did 
we  learn  how  the  ordinary  Greek  lady  dressed,  in  contrast 
to  our  knowledge  from  many  ideal  statues  by  great  artists 
how  the  Greek  goddess — undressed.  There  is  as  great  a 
contrast  between  the  stately  periods  of  the  studied  orator 
and  the  curt  indorsements  of  the  overworked  official.  I 
heard  not  long  ago  a  great  English  banker,''  with  the  self- 
complacency  of  his  race,  attribute  the  invention  of  banking 
to  his  earliest  predecessors  in  London.  He  might  have 
learned  from  the  very  name  "Lombard  Street"  that  he  was 
w^rong;  he  may  now  learn  from  a  whole  literature  on  the 
money  and  corn  banks  of  Egypt,  that  there  were  many 
"brave  men  before  Agamemnon."* 

1  Niese,  Gesch.  des  hellenist,  Zeitalters ;  Bevan,  The  House  of  Seleucus. 

2  Preisigke,   "Griech.   Pap.   Urkunden  u.  Bureaudienst  im  griech.   rom.   aegyp- 
ten,"  Archiv  'fiir  Post  u.  Telegrnphie,  1904. 

3  Sir  John  Lubbock   (now  Lord  Avebury). 

*  Vixere  fortes  ante  Agamemnona.     Horace,  Od.  iv,  9,  25. 


90      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

When  we  consider  the  effect  of  all  these  studies  and  dis- 
coveries upon  the  general  influence  which  Hellenic  civiliza- 
tion has  had,  or  will  have,  on  the  culture  of  the  twentieth 
century,  we  must  be  prepared  to  meet  the  objection  more 
widely  felt  than  formulated,  that  all  this  study  of  lesser  and 
later  Greek  history  is  likely  to  dilute  the  strong  impression 
which  the  noblest  and  best  epoch  made  upon  our  fathers. 
There  was  then  a  strict  selection  of  what  was  pure ;  all  that 
was  supposed  degenerate  and  second-rate  was  neglected, 
and  this  is  why  Greek  culture  has  maintained  its  supremacy 
till  the  present  day.  Why  study  Polybius  or  Diodorus 
when  we  have  Thucydides  and  Herodotus?  Why  study 
Callimachus  when  we  have  Pindar?  Are  not  a  few  ac- 
knowledged masters  sufficient  to  maintain  the  Greek  influ- 
ence on  modern  culture?  These  objections  are  true,  indeed, 
but  only  true  from  a  special  standpoint.  For  the  education 
of  the  young  in  any  literature,  we  are  bound,  by  natural 
selection,  to  choose  first  the  great  masterpieces.  That  is  a 
universal  rule  in  this  our  mortal  life,  where  our  powers  of 
comprehension  are  very  limited.  If  we  carry  it  to  its  ex- 
treme limit  we  arrive  at  the  word  of  Scripture,  or  of  the 
Koran :  "Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  and  its  right- 
eousness, and  all  other  things  shall  be  added  unto  you."  But 
if  our  education  is  to  comprehend  not  merely  the  perfect 
form  of  Greek  literature,  but  the  realities  of  Greek  life;  if 
the  complete  history  of  that  people,  whose  world-influence 
waxed  rapidly  according  as  the  perfection  of  its  artistic  life 
began  to  wane,  be  our  object,  then  the  view  of  the  school- 
master and  the  grammarian  must  make  way  for  larger  con- 
siderations. Nay,  more,  this  narrow  view  has  misled  the 
world  upon  the  very  issues  raised  by  the  pedants.  What  is 
decadence,  and  what  is  inferiority?  We  will  all  concede 
that  there  is  an  inimitable  grace  in  the  dialogue  of  Aristo- 
phanes, which  even  Menander  could  not  equal,  but  are  there 


\ 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  91 

not  other  perfections  in  Greek  life?  The  two  masterpieces, 
for  example,  that  stand  out  in  the  Greek  sculpture  of  the 
Louvre  in  Paris  are  the  great  Nike  of  Samothrace,  and  the 
exquisite  Venus  of  Melos.  They  both  come  from  the  post- 
classical  age.  The  marble  sarcophagus  from  Sidon,  which 
commemorates  some  companion  of  Alexander  (probably 
that  Philokles  who  was  Sidonian  King,  and  High  Admiral 
to  the  first  Ptolemy),  is  the  most  splendid  and  perfect  speci- 
men of  that  kind  of  art  we  have  yet  recovered.  That,  too, 
is  post-classical.  The  purest  schools  had  banished  from 
their  course,  as  a  writer  of  decadent  Greek,  the  immortal 
Plutarch,  whom  even  Shakespeare  thought  worthy  of  trans- 
lation to  his  stage,  with  hardly  a  word  of  alteration.  And 
when  these  people  conceded  to  us  Theocritus,  the  great 
father  of  the  pastoral  idyl,  as  a  master,  probably  because  of 
his  difficult  Doric  dialect  rather  than  his  novel  subject,  why 
did  they  conceal  from  us  the  exquisite  Euboeic  adventure 
(his  seventh  discourse)  of  Dion  Chrysostom,  or  the  late 
barn,  but  not  the  less  precious,  Daphnis  and  Chloc,  whose 
very  author  is  a  mystery?^  It  is  through  widely  different 
circumstances  that  the  narratives  of  the  Synoptic  Gospels, 
documents  of  the  highest  moral  quality,  have  maintained 
their  fame,  yet  let  none  of  you  imagine  that  their  literary 
excellence  did  not  contribute  largely  to  this  permanent  in- 
fluence. 

But  I  need  not  rest  my  argument  for  the  expansion  of 
our  study  of  Hellenic  into  Hellenistic  times  on  these  literary 
grounds,  nor  is  it  a  mere  protest  against  ignoring  great 
works  of  literature  and  of  art  under  the  bonds  of  a  narrow 
and  false  theory.  The  political  lessons  of  this  later  age  of 
Greece  have  only  recently  risen  into  the  appreciation  of 
men.     When  Grote  comes  to  record  complimentary  votes 


1  These  matters  are  set   forth  in   my   Silver  Age   of  Greece,   in  which   I   have 
sought  to  rescue  from  oblivion  these  forgotten  masterpieces. 


92      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

passed  at  Athens  to  a  Macedonian  ruler  or  his  officer,  he 
thinks  it  high  time  for  the  historian  of  Greece  to  lay  down 
his  pen  in  disgust,  and  bring  his  labors  to  a  close.     And  yet 
since  then  Freeman  has  given  us  an  admirable  and  instruc- 
tive volume  on  Greek  Federations;  the  fourth  volume  of 
Hohn's  History,  and  the  monumental  work  of  Droysen  are 
on  the  same  epoch.     It  is  not  in  a  mere  address,  but  by  the 
studies  of  many  years,  that  I  have  shown  my  own  personal 
interest  in  this  once  neglected  period.     Freeman,  utilizing 
his  Polybius  as  no  one  had  done  before,  was  the  first  to 
show  how  the  idea  of  federation,  long  obscure  and  almost 
dormant  in  the  Greek  mind,  came  into  vogue  when  the  little 
city  states  of  Greece  found  great  kingdoms  rising  up  around 
them.     To    remain    isolated    after    the   old    Greek    fashion 
meant  ruin;  some  form  of  combination,  some  accumulated 
strength,  was  necessary  to  preserve  not  only  the  political 
but  the  economic  existence  of  small  states.     This  fruitful 
idea,  first  carried  out  on  a  considerable  scale  by  the  leagues 
of  ^tolia  and  Ach?ea,  then  with  great  effect  by  Rhodes, 
failed  on  the  whole,  and  failed  on  account  of  the  ingrained 
conviction  of  the  Greeks  that  every  state  which  voluntarily 
entered  a  confederation  was  entitled  to  secede  from  it  at 
any  subsequent  moment.     If  it  could  not  be  brought  back  by 
argument,  had  the  rest  any  right  to  bring  it  back  by  force? 
Need  I  say  one  word  more  in  this  place  to  enforce  the  world- 
importance  of  this  problem?     Seeing  that  the  Greek  senti- 
ment, as  might  be  expected  from  small  separate  cities,  with 
long  traditions  of  independence,  and  perpetual  jealousies  of 
their  neighbors,   was   always   in   favor  of  secession,   there 
remained   no   other   alternative   than   to   combine   under   a 
foreign  monarchy.     For  this,  while  it  granted  local  liberties, 
from  indifference  or  from  policy,  defended  its  subject  states 
by  a  superior  military  force,  and  prohibited  those  local  wars, 
which  were  the  bane  of  the  Greek  world. 


EXPANSION  OF  GREEK  HISTORY  93 

If  the  history  of  the  rise  of  federations  has  at  last  re- 
ceived due  attention,  that  is  not  the  case  with  the  resurgence 
of  the  idea  of  monarchy,  not  merely  enforced  upon  the 
Greeks  by  their  Macedonian  conqueror,  but  defended  in 
many  books  and  tracts  from  Xenophon's  Cyrus  down  to  the 
tracts  of  philosophers  about  royalty  (ire/n  fiamXei'a^)  of 
which  many  fragments  and  notices  remain.  This  once 
hateful  form  of  government  was  not  therefore  thrust  upon 
a  democratic  world  against  its  will,  but  recognized  on  trial 
to  be  the  practical  solution  of  difificulties  which  were  bring- 
ing political  ruin  upon  the  Greek  world.  How  far  this 
great  change  of  ideas  prevailed  appears  from  the  readiness 
with  which  even  skeptical  democracies  lavished  not  only 
royal  titles  but  divine  honors  upon  the  new  king.  Never 
was  the  Divine  right  of  hereditary  monarchy  so  quickly  and 
readily  adopted.  It  was,  in  fact,  far  safer  to  have  a  distant 
king,  who  theoretically  could  do  no  wrong,  than  a  present 
tyranny  of  pauper  fellow  citizens,  wnth  irresponsible  power 
to  do  practical  mischief  at  every  assembly  they  chose  to  hold. 
It  was  far  better  for  the  herald's  office  to  invent  a  divine 
pedigree  for  an  adventurer,  than  to  have  the  Divine  right  of 
kings  questioned  and  the  novel  virtue  of  loyalty  to  the 
reigning  house  chilled  by  skepticism.  For  thus  only  could 
even  temporary  peace,  even  local  liberties,  be  maintained  in 
that  seething  and  tumultuous  age.  A  new  Cadmus  had 
sown  the  dragon's  teeth,  and  the  Greek  w^orld  was  red  w:th 
the  warring  harvest.  The  anodyne  which  that  world 
adopted  gave  the  framew^ork  of  the  ideas  to  Augustus  Caesar 
on  which  he  built  up  the  Roman  Empire,  and  established 
the  Roman  Peace. 

Here  I  pause,  out  of  breath  with  the  effort  to  compass  so 
vast  a  subject,  to  cover  so  long  a  course. 

In  conclusion:  There  are  three  great  requisites  for  the 
further  development  of  this  branch  of  human  learniilg. 
First,  the  diligent  prosecution  of  the  ordering  and  criticis- 


94      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

ing  existing  materials  by  a  number  of  specialists,  each  to  his 
own  department.  Of  this  first  we  may  feel  quite  assured. 
For  our  age  is  indeed  a  diligent  age,  and  has  learned  how 
to  collate  and  to  edit.  Secondly,  more  ample  endowment 
for  making  special  and  costly  researches  on  famous  historic 
sites.  What  new  material  might  not  accrue  to  us  if  we  had 
leave  and  means  to  explore  Sybaris  and  Cyrene,  Antioch 
and  Alexandria?  And  here  too  we  may  have  good  hopes, 
for  our  age  is  indeed  a  generous  age,  and  the  princely 
donors  of  thousands  for  modern  science  may  yet  be  per- 
suaded that  with  hundreds  devoted  to  historic  research,  they 
will  add  not  less  to  human  knowledge,  and  ten  times  more 
to  the  gratitude  of  men.^  For  human  culture  must  have 
many  sides,  and  it  will  be  an  evil  day  when  the  knowledge 
of  positive  science  leaves  no  place  for  the  knowledge  of 
human  society.  But  let  no  man  persuade  you  that  ardent 
diligence  and  ample  endowment  are  enough  without  the  last 
and  greatest  postulate  which  I  shall  make. — the  encourage- 
ment of  a  bold,  constructive  imagination,  which  carries  on 
its  inquiries  not  at  haphazard,  but  in  order  to  verify  or  to 
refute  some  large  theory  of  what  things  ought  to  have  been, 
or  what  men  ought  to  have  done.  It  is  this  quality  which 
makes  the  difference  between  the  mere  scientific  drudge  and 
the  great  scientific  thinker;  it  marks  the  greatness  of  a 
Champollion  and  a  Hincks,  no  less  than  of  a  Newton  and 
a  Laplace.  And  if  it  cannot  be  the  inheritance  of  every 
student,  being  indeed  the  exceptional  and  precious  gift  of 
the  gods,  remember  that  it  cannot  only  be  encouraged  and 
nurtured,  but  discouraged  and  starved  by  the  education  of 
men.  Through  it.  and  through  it  alone,  can  you  under- 
stand the  real  meaning  of  the  pregnant  apothegm :  Priidens 
interrogatio  dimidium  scicntiae. 

'  If.  for  example,  the  classical  public,  who  are  rot  millionaires,  would  sup- 
port the  Grseco-Roman  branch  of  the  Egypt  Exploration  Fund  with  numerous 
subscriptions,  the  momentous  and  epoch-making  wo'-k  of  >t"ssrs.  Grenfell  and 
Hunt  might  assume  larger  proportions,  and  many  texts  would  be  saved  by  them 
from  the  lamentable  fate  of  being  dug  out  and  lacerated  by  ignorant  natives, 
and  sold  in  scraps  to  equally  ignorant  travelers. 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY 

BY  ETTORE  PAIS 

[Ettore  Pais,  Professor  of  Ancient  History,  University  of  Naples, 
Italy,  b.  Borgo  S.  Dalmazzo,  Piedmont,  Italy,  July  27,  1856. 
Ph.D.  Florence,  1878;  Post-graduate,  Berlin,  1881-83;  LL.D. 
Chicago;  Chevalier.  Legion  d'Honneur  de  France;  Commander 
of  the  Prussian  Crown;  Director  of  Royal  Museum,  Sassari, 
1879-81;  Cagliari,  1883-86;  Naples,  1901-04;  Professor  of  Ancient 
History,  University  of  Palermo,  1886-88;  Pisa,  1888-99;  Naples, 
1900;  Madison,  Wis.,  1905.  Member  Academy  of  Lincei,  Rome; 
Academy  of  Sciences,  Munich;  Imperial  German  Archaeology  In- 
stitute, Berlin;  Societe  d'histoire  diplomatique,  Paris;  Royal  His- 
torical Society,  Piedmont;  ibid.  Romagna;  ibid.  Marche  Venice, 
etc.  Author  of  History  of  Siciliy  and  Great  Greece;  History  of 
Sardinia;  History  of  Rome;  and  other  noted  M'orlvs  in  history.] 

Any  one  who  will  follow  the  development  of  the  ancient 
political  history  of  Greece  and  Rome,  and  closely  observe 
what  were  our  conditions  from  the  Renaissance  to  the  close 
of  the  eighteenth  century,  will  easily  recognize  that  the 
nineteenth  century,  so  glorious  in  the  renewing  of  philo- 
sophical, natural,  and  social  studies,  has  not  been  less  great 
in  this  conspicuous  branch  of  human  knowledge.  Thanks 
to  the  methodic  study  of  the  literary  texts,  of  the  genesis 
of  sources,  and  to  the  laborious  collection  of  infinite  series 
of  monuments;  thanks  to  the  works  of  Boechk,  Grote, 
Niebuhr,  Droysen,  Mommsen,  and  of  the  great  number  of 
their  followers,  the  political  knowledge  of  the  ancient  classi- 
cal world  has  advanced  so  far  as  to  give  us  an  almost  com- 
plete view  of  that  civilization.  We  have  precise  narratives, 
which  ought  to  be  of  the  greatest  utility,  not  only  to  the 
professional  scholar  but  also  to  any  cultured  man.  And 
close  to  these  narratives,  inspired,  as  in  the  case  of  Momm- 
sen, even  by  the  cult  of  form,  we  have  a  long  succession  of 
deep  works  on  all  the  branches  pertaining  to  kindred 
sciences;  from  chronology  to  numismatics,  from  public  law 
to  the  history  of  art  and  of  philosophical  opinions.     Any 

95 


96      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

one,  ill  fact,  who  with  optimistic  views  will  examine  the 
enormous  scientific  publications  made  in  Germany,  France, 
England,  and  America,  may  almost  be  drawn  to  conclude, 
at  first  impression,  that  little  is  left  to  be  done,  and  that 
man's  mind,  always  seeking  new  problems,  may  find  little 
to  reap  in  a  field  so  completely  cleared.  This  impression 
is  perhaps  less  strongly  received  from  the  study  of  Greek 
political  history  than  from  the  study  of  the  Roman,  where 
the  wonderful  energy  of  a  single  man  appears  to  have  left 
almost  nothing  for  his  fellow  workers  and  future  genera- 
tions to  gather.  You  will  understand  my  allusion  to 
Theodor  IMommsen,  the  man  who  for  half  a  century  has 
held  undisputed  the  sceptre  among  all  cultivators  of  history 
and  classical  law,  the  man  who  has  not  passed  over  in 
silence  any  of  the  arguments  regarding  life  of  the  Roman 
people. 

Mommsen,  in  fact,  after  having  silenced  the  voices  of  his 
opponents,  has  seen  his  triumphal  chariot  followed  by  the 
best  energies  of  two  generations  of  learned  men.  But  it 
looks  as  if  it  were  an  inevitable  historical  necessity  that  to 
the  works  of  learned  men  should  be  reserved  a  fate  quite 
different  from  that  which  is  decreed  to  the  works  of  artists. 
The  greatest  perfection  reached  by  a  poet  or  a  painter  has 
not  as  its  immediate  effect  the  disdaining  of  his  predecessors' 
work.  Human  curiosity  is,  in  this  case,  rather  urged  to 
examine  and  to  appreciate  the  less  mature  and  perfect  work 
which  marks  a  salient  point  in  the  artistic  development.  On 
the  contrary,  it  is  quite  rare  not  to  see  those  same  laurels 
gathered  by  the  greatest  scientists,  rapidly  fade  and  drop. 
And  the  history  of  science,  keeping  firmly  to  the  vital  ideas 
and  criteria  which  make  the  works  of  the  most  eminent 
authors  of  the  greatest  importance,  gives  only  a  flying 
glance  to  the  older  works,  which  have  spread  in  their  times 
the  ideas  which  had  to  produce  the  new  germs. 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  97 

The  direct  efficacy  of  August  Boechk  has  been  now  trans- 
mitted in  a  great  measure  to  other  writers,  and  though  the 
impression  left  by  Mommsen,  who,  following  close  upon 
Boechk,  filled  with  him  all  the  nineteenth  century,  is  still 
lasting,  it  is  clear  that  also  through  the  ideas  and  infinite 
researches  which  emanated  from  his  great  mind,  we  are  on 
the  eve  of  a  new  and  great  intellectual  movement,  a  move- 
ment which  is  alimented  and  increased  by  the  new  material 
which  is  being  discovered  in  every  part  of  the  ancient  classi- 
cal world. 

In  these  last  years  we  are  coming  into  possession  of  new 
Greek  histories,  which  are  destined  to  make  the  world  for- 
get the  ones  written  by  Grote  and  Curtius;  and  new  ideas 
and  problems  are  already  fermenting  in  the  human  brain, 
which  will  necessarily  lead  to  new  histories  of  the  Republic 
and  of  the  Roman  Empire,  quite  different  from  those  of 
Mommsen  and  Gibbon. 

The  opinion  generally  accepted  that  the  material  of  the 
classical  world  is  now  altogether  determined  and  closed,  and 
that  the  study  of  historians  should  be  limited  to  penetrating 
literary  examination,  discussed  word  by  word,  and  to  the 
observing  of  the  old  materials  under  new  points  of  view, 
has  been  altogether  destroyed  by  the  fortunate  discovery  of 
papyri  which,  thanks,  especially,  to  English  diligence  and 
learning,  are  coming  to  us  from  the  very  bowels  of  ancient 
Egypt.  And  to  the  papyri  which  illustrate  every  part  of 
the  public  and  private  life  of  the  ancient  world  are  added 
the  results  given  by  the  excavations  which  illustrate  both 
the  mature  ages  and  the  first  origins  of  civilization  among 
the  classic  peoples. 

One  of  the  most  salient  characteristics  of  the  nineteenth 
century  has  been,  in  fact,  the  patient  research  of  the  em- 
bryonic forms  of  all  cosmic  life.  It  was  quite  natural  that 
from  this  universal  tendency  the  study  of  classic  history 


98      HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

should  not  have  been  exempt ;  a  study  which,  also  for  the 
past,  has  been  constantly  determined  in  its  genesis  and  in  its 
ulterior  development  by  the  prevailing  currents  in  all  the 
remaining  sciences,  and  by  the  changing  of  political  and 
philosophical  ideas.  The  study  of  classical  antiquity  from 
the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  through  the  eighteenth,  es- 
pecially in  Protestant  countries,  has  been  the  substratum  of 
political  and  civil  education.  When  the  triumph  of  liberal 
ideas  was  obtained  in  Europe,  the  science  of  antiquity  did 
not  become  the  object  of  mere  erudite  curiosity,  but  was 
taken  as  the  foundation  and  the  ideal  of  literary  and  moral 
education.  And  it  is  in  this  blind  and  exclusive  admiration 
of  the  life  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  that  one  must  trace 
the  reason  why  their  civilization  was  considered  quite  dif- 
ferent from  the  Eastern,  v^hile  the  Greek  one  was  supposed 
autochthonous,  sprung  by  its  ow^n  virtue,  like  Athena  com- 
pletely armed  from  the  head  of  Jove.  Thus  the  declara- 
tions of  the  ancients  were  considered  erroneous ;  though,  far 
from  feeling  any  shame  of  this  contact  with  the  oriental 
world,  they  insisted  particularly  on  it.  And  the  same  insist- 
ence and  w-armth,  which  would  be  urged  to  prove  the  con- 
stant purity  of  blood  in  the  lineage  of  an  aristocratic  family, 
was  used  in  attributing  a  purely  Hellenic  origin  to  the  myth 
of  Herakles,  and  to  deny  the  Phoenician  descendance  of 
Thales.  The  merit  of  having  overthrown  the  theories 
which  have  had  for  so  many  years  the  preponderance  in  the 
field  of  European  science  is  undoubtedly  due  to  the  various 
scientific  European  and  American  missions,  and  to  many 
learned  Englishmen.  And  without  letting  ourselves  be 
blinded  by  the  exaggerations  to  which  every  reaction  leads, 
we  must  follow  with  great  love  the  discoveries  made  in 
Egypt,  Crete,  Greece,  and  Sicily,  revealing  the  existence  of 
civilization  of  the  Mykenaean  type,  which  demonstrates  to 
us,  with  increasing  strength,  the  truth  of  the  aphorism  that 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  99 

in  the  world  nothing  is  isolated,  but  everything  is  in  rela- 
tionship with  preceding  or  with  parallel  phenomena.  Scien- 
tists are  to-day  better  disposed  to  listen  to  the  demonstra- 
tions of  Ginzel  on  the  astronomical  discoveries  of  the  people 
of  Babylon,  and  on  their  efficacy  over  the  posterior  doctrines 
of  Hipparchus  and  Ptolomaeus,  just  as  they  have  no  more 
difficulty  in  recognizing  the  possibility  of  ancient  political 
relations  between  Greece,  Asia  Minor,  and  Egypt.  And  it 
is  to  be  hoped  that  new  discoveries  may  not  only  benefit  the 
development  of  material  civilization,  but  may  one  day  be  of 
great  advantage  in  illustrating  the  genesis  of  the  Greek  con- 
science, which  is  still  substantially  dominating  the  modern 
world. 

The  great  and  luminous  discoveries  which  to-day  have 
thrown  light  upon  the  relations  between  Egypt,  Asia  Minor, 
and  the  countries  inhabited  by  the  Hellenes,  were  to  have  a 
necessary  rebounding  action  in  the  researches  regarding  the 
origins  of  civilization  and  Italian  history. 

The  most  recent  scientific  criticism  had  refused  the  mystic 
narrative  of  the  Pelasgians.  It  is  then  clearly  understood 
how  some  scholars  came  to  defend  such  traditions.  How- 
ever, it  must  be  added  at  once  that  to  this  day  these  attempts 
have  not  been  very  fortunte.  The  excavations  at  Norba  in 
the  territory  of  the  Volscians,  with  the  hope  on  the  part  of 
some  to  attribute  to  the  Pelasgians  the  ancient  Italic  walls, 
have  only  served  to  sustain  the  position  of  those  critics  who 
assigned  those  same  walls  to  a  much  more  recent  age.  And 
the  same  results  have  been  obtained  from  the  explorations 
in  Etruscan  Volterra.  The  discoveries  of  material  of  the 
Mykenaean  type  in  Sicily  and  also  at  Tarentum  are  in  rela- 
tion with  the  commercial  diffusion  of  products,  which,  in 
the  third  Mediterranean  basin,  reached  the  first  dawn  of 
Greek  colonization,  that  is  the  beginning  of  the  eighth 
century.     Likewise  all  attempts  to  set  back,  by  many  cen- 


100    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

turies  before  the  eighth,  the  most  ancient  historical  forms 
of  Italy  have  completely  failed. 

No  wise  critic  can  seriously  consider  the  attempt  made  by 
a  learned  Swede  to  establish  a  chronology^  which  goes  back 
two  thousand  years  before  Christ,  by  means  of  various 
types  of  bronzes  and  vases,  which  lasted  in  an  irregular 
manner  according  to  the  various  countries,  more  or  less 
accessible  to  new  commercial  influences,  more  or  less  slow 
on  their  way  to  civilization.  A  few  years  ago  people  took 
into  consideration  such  theories  wdiich,  basing  themselves  on 
the  study  of  ^milian  palisades,  caused  the  Italic  founders 
of  Rome  to  come  from  the  north  of  Italy.  The  recent  dis- 
coveries in  Greece,  in  the  ^gean  Islands  on  the  coast  of 
southern  Italy,  are  instead  tending  to  prove  that  such 
archaeological  discoveries  can  contribute  to  establish  the  his- 
tory of  the  commercial  relations,  but  that  they  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  ethnography  of  the  most  ancient  Italic  races. 
I  do  not  stop  to  examine  theories  already  accepted  as  cer- 
tain,— of  palisades  pitched  even  on  dry  land  for  mere  reason 
of  rite,  and  of  Ligurians  recognized  in  various  parts  of 
Italy  merely  from  the  crouching  position  of  the  corpses,  etc. 
Common  sense  knows  wdiat  value  to  put  on  such  aberrations. 
Archaeological  excavations  tend  rather  to  prove  that  the 
Italian  civilization,  born  on  the  coast  of  southern  Italy,  grad- 
ually spread  as  far  as  the  plains  of  northern  Italy  and  quite 
to  the  base  of  the  Alps,  w^here  the  less  frequent  contact  with 
the  East,  the  continuous  emigration  and  imposition  of  bar- 
barous elements  coming  from  the  north,  were  maintaining 
stationary  forms  of  civilization,  which  had  already  dis- 
appeared from  the  south. 

Among  all  the  excavations  of  Italy,  those  which  have  been 
so  zealously  carried  out  in  the  Roman  Forum  by  Giacomo 
Boni  are  to  be  especially  mentioned.  These  excavations 
have  been,  for  some,  the  revealing  elements  of  a  civilization 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  101 

anterior  to  Romulus  himself.  But  they  proved,  after  all, 
nothing  of  the  kind.  We  are  lacking  all  data  to  establish 
whether  those  bronzes  and  vases  should  be  of  the  tenth  and 
ninth,  rather  than  the  eighth,  seventh,  or  even  sixth  cen- 
tury, B.  c.  Other  excavations  would  seem  to  prove  that  the 
typical  forms  of  the  so-called  Numa  vases  lasted  till  the 
Empire.  The  only  result  altogether  certain  is  the  first  con- 
firmation of  the  ancient  texts,  which  said  that  at  the  out- 
skirts of  the  Forum  there  was  a  Sepulcretum.  And  from 
this,  even  before  the  excavations,  I  had  obtained  the  proof, 
solemnly  confirmed  to-day,  that  the  Forum  was  added  to  the 
city  long  after  the  age  of  the  seven  kings. 

I  do  not  think  it  is  now  the  moment  to  speak  of  the 
famous  Archaic  Latin  inscription  found  under  the  Niger 
Lapis.  All  the  attempts  wdiich  have  been  made  to  interpret 
it  have  been  fruitless.  Considered  from  the  palseographical 
side  it  may  belong  either  to  the  sixth  or  fifth  century,  or 
even  fourth  century,  while  from  the  external  form  and  for 
the  disposition  of  the  writing  it  recalls  the  Capuan  monu- 
ments of  the  end  of  the  second  or  more  probably  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  first  century,  b.  c.  No  reasoning  of  any 
critic  can  possibly  demonstrate  that  the  rex  remembered 
there  is  the  political  rex  of  the  royal  age  rather  than  the 
rex  sacrormn  of  the  Republic.  As  regards  history,  prop- 
erly said,  the  inscription  teaches  us  nothing.  The  excava- 
tions of  the  Forum  have,  however,  demonstrated  what  I  had 
already  affirmed,  namely,  that  the  arched  eloaca  maxima  is 
not  a  work  belonging  to  the  royal  age,  but  rather  to  the 
Republic. 

In  order  to  solve  the  most  ancient  problems  of  the  history 
of  Italian  civilization,  some  people  have  turned  to  the  in- 
vestigation of  linguistics  and  anthropolog}'  rather  than  of 
archaeology.  It  has  been  easy  for  an  able  German  linguist 
to  criticise  the  weak  point  of  the  theories  founded  on  cranio- 


102    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

logical  ami  somatological  elements.  However,  it  has  been 
easy  to  a  great  Italian  linguist  to  find  traces  of  ancient 
ethnology  in  the  phonetic  persistences  among  the  dwellers 
of  various  Italian  regions ;  and  the  anatomic  examination  in 
the  structure  of  the  different  races  in  the  Peninsula  will  cer- 
tainly lead  one  day  to  brilliant  results.  The  j>ersistency  of , 
the  Celtic  reveals  the  expansion  of  this  people ;  and  among  ' 
the  mountains  of  the  Garfagnana  the  Ligurian  race,  which 
before  the  Etruscan  dominion  occupied  such  large  part  of 
the  Italian,  Gallic,  and  Iberian  regions,  still  holds  compact 
in  its  somatological  integrity.  Thus,  on  the  slopes  of  the 
Apennines,  surrounding  Campania,  just  where  the  Sarno 
takes  its  start,  one  finds  in  the  same  compact  condition  an 
indigenous  race  unmodified  by  the  successive  superimpo- 
sitions  of  the  Samnitcs  and  Romans.  And  I  willingly  agree 
with  Professor  Julian  when  he  says  that  a  corpus  of  the 
toponomastic  of  the  ancient  world  would  lead  to  most  bril- 
liant results. 

Naturally  these  studies  are  not  yet  perfect,  and  hurried 
conclusions  may  lead  to  bitter  delusions.  Certainly  a  great 
delusion  must  have  been  felt  by  certain  learned  men  who, 
after  having  spoken  with  all  certainty  of  the  immigration 
of  people  coming  from  Asia,  basing  their  affirmations  on  the 
presence  of  jade-axes,  were  suddenly  informed  by  a  min- 
eralogist that  the  same  rock  was  to  be  found  in  the  Alps. 
Bitter  delusions  will  come  to  those  whom  the  Etruscan 
sphinx  devours  daily;  and  my  opinion  is  that  people  insisted 
with  too  great  facility  on  the  non-Aryan  character  of  the 
Ligurians,  since  I  have  already  brought  to  observation  that 
the  etymolog)'  of  the  indigenous  name  Genoa  (knee),  as 
Ancona  (the  arm).  Eryx-Verrucca  (the  hill),  shows  the 
premature  character  of  these  conclusions. 

These  delusions  must  not,  however,  prove  discouraging, 
since  there  is  no  science  which  has  not  improved  through 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  103 

infinite  uncertainties  and  errors.  We  must,  however,  admit 
that  regarding  the  problem  of  Itahc  origin  which  has  at- 
tracted and  still  attracts  such  a  great  number  of  studious 
people,  we  have  not  yet  reached  any  series  of  sure  and  com- 
plex results,  partly  from  lack  of  data,  and  partly  from  faulty 
methods. 

Many  people  who  busy  themselves  with  the  primitive 
strata  which  precede  the  true  and  real  political  life  ignore 
classical  culture,  which  is  a  fundamental  guide,  and  those 
who  represent  it  are  not  always  in  a  condition  to  appreciate 
the  anthropological  and  social  problems. 

Regarding  the  archaeological  part,  researches  have  not 
been  directed  to  just  aims.  The  great  majority  of  learned 
Europeans  and  Americans,  always  running  after  new  and 
more  ancient  material,  turn  to  the  excavating  of  Samos, 
Miletus,  Crete,  and  Lycia,  whilst  Italy  is  still  quite  far  from 
being  all  explored.  And  yet  on  the  very  boundaries  of 
Latium  and  Campania,  where  the  ancients  placed  the  mythi- 
cal seat  of  Circe,  and  the  tombstone  of  Elpenor,  notable 
ruins  exist  neglected  even  from  the  times  of  Polybius. 
There,  just  as  on  the  little  hill  standing  above  the  ruins  of 
the  Roman  Minturnge,  are  preserved  the  traces  of  what  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  ancient  stratum  of  Greek  colonization  in 
Italy. 

The  problems  relating  to  the  most  ancient  Greek  and 
Italic  civilization  are  waiting  for  light  from  the  spade  of  the 
excavator;  on  the  other  hand,  those  regarding  the  most 
ancient  social  and  political  structure  wait  their  light  from 
the  comparative  study  of  public  law  and  economy.  But 
even  in  this  respect  what  a  difference  there  is  between  the 
history  of  ancient  Greece  and  that  of  ancient  Rome!  The 
marbles  of  the  ancient  Acropolis  permitted  Boechk  and  his 
followers  to  reconstruct  the  financial  history  and  the  mari- 
time hegemony  of  Athens,  the  texts  of  the  comedians  and 


104    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

of  the  orators  have  permitted  Belok,  Poehlman,  Francotte, 
and  others  to  treat  the  most  difficult  questions  relating  to 
financial  and  social  organizations.  Paul  Girard  has  suc- 
ceeded in  writing  a  good  book  on  the  ancient  land  property 
in  Greece.  The  material  lately  illustrated  by  Wilken  proves 
that  new  researches  may  still  be  made.  In  the  Roman  field, 
instead,  there  is  nothing  that  can  be  in  any  way  compared 
to  this.  No  history  whatever  on  land  property  during  the 
Republic  is  to  be  had,  and  if  we  want  to  be  sincere,  we  must 
admit  we  do  not  possess  even  a  good  guide  for  the  more 
ancient  social  and  political  institutions.  We  have,  it  is 
true,  ancient  and  diffused  narratives  on  political  struggles, 
which  are  the  foundation  of  a  long  series  of  modern  manuals 
on  law  and  history.  But  such  narratives  are  based  on 
spurious  material,  and  even  the  treaties  on  Roman  political 
law  written  by  Mommsen  (for  the  period  from  the  age  of 
the  kings  to  the  beginning  of  the  Punic  wars)  is  based  upon 
falsified  material.  I  do  not  insist  on  this  point,  as  I  would 
find  myself  obliged  to  repeat  demonstrations  already  given 
by  me  elsewhere.  I  hope  at  any  rate  to  be  able  soon  to 
publish  my  researches  on  the  value  of  chronology,  on  the 
Fasti  and  on  the  public  law  of  the  most  ancient  Roman 
people,  in  the  only  way  in  which  it  can  be  really  obtained, 
namely,  through  integrations  and  comparisons.  I  say  in- 
tegrations and  comparisons,  since  the  study  of  public  law 
and  of  the  social  conditions  of  a  nation  cannot  be  made  now, 
as  in  the  past,  through  the  simple  knowledge  of  the  material 
relating  to  that  single  people,  no  matter  how  minute  and 
deep.  If  there  is  a  matter  which  should  be  deeply  known 
by  the  student  of  ancient  civilization,  it  is  the  comparative 
history  of  the  law  of  all  peoples  beginning  from  the  cus- 
toms in  the  savage  state,  to  the  true  and  proper  law  of  most 
civilized  people.  Under  this  aspect  Sumner  ]Maine's  re- 
searches, though  incomplete,  have  brought  a  greater  advan- 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  105 

tage  to  studies,  than  the  pretentious  works  of  many  scholars 
of  Roman  Law.  And  only  by  such  comparison,  to  which 
must  be  added  a  good  knowledge  of  the  classical  material, 
shall  we,  some  day,  be  the  possessors  of  a  treatise  on  Greek 
public  law,  which  is  generally  desired.  And  the  study  of 
law  and  comparative  sociology  will  evidently  give  us  the 
history  of  the  ethic  development  of  the  classical  world, 
which  we  lack,  and  which  is  the  surest  foundation  in  order 
to  understand  the  reasons  of  political  events. 

Fortunately  for  those  who  will  apply  themselves  to  the 
history  of  law  and  of  Greek  and  Roman  social  institutions, 
the  Egyptian  papyri  and  the  discovery  of  new  inscriptions, 
which  explain  intimate  connections  between  the  two  great 
phases  of  ancient  civilization,  will  bring  new  and  wished- 
for  materials.  Every  one  knows  that  an  institution  like 
that  of  auriim  coronarkim,  of  the  colonat,  and  of  the  frumen- 
tationcs,  finds  its  precedents  in  the  history  of  Samos,  Miletus, 
and  Alexandria;  and  the  original  studies  of  Mitteis  have 
shown  what  quantity  of  material  for  deep  researches  there 
is  in  the  comparison  of  Roman  with  Hellenic  laws. 

It  looks  as  if  the  discovery  of  the  papyri  were  destined  to 
give  results  in  the  Roman  and  Greek  fields.  But  if  the 
philologists  have  rejoiced  in  the  discovery  of  the  texts  of 
Aristotle,  Bachylides,  and  Timotheus,  the  Latinists  must  be 
satisfied  with  a  long  series  of  contracts,  leases  of  rustic 
farms,  constitution  of  dowry,  contracts  of  loans  and  emphy- 
teuses.  There  is  no  hope  of  finding  a  book  of  Polybius  or 
of  some  other  historian,  precious  for  us,  but  less  cared  for 
by  the  ancients  on  account  of  the  style  in  which  it  was  writ- 
ten. We  have  this  discouraging  outlook  also  from  the 
examination  of  the  archaeological  excavations  made  in  the 
ancient  world. 

The  soil  of  ancient  Italy  is  certainly  not  exhausted,  but 
nothing  makes  one  hope  for  discoveries  similar  to  those  of 


106    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

Greece  and  Asia  Minor;  and  the  interest  of  the  studious  now 
turned  to  the  oriental  world  does  not  find  it  worth  while  to 
explore  the  adult  forms  of  the  Grzeco-Roman  civilization 
which  alone  is  offered  by  the  Peninsula.  We  deduce  from 
this  that  the  study  of  Italian  history  at  the  time  of  the  free 
republic  does  not  present  anything  new  for  investigation,  i 
while  all  the  periods  of  Greek  history  have  been,  one  might 
say,  transformed,  and  the  history  of  Hellenism,  thanks  to 
the  works  of  ]\Iahaffy,  Belocph,  Niese,  Strack,  Bouche- 
Leclercq,  and  many  others,  has  been  rebuilt  from  the  very 
beginning.  Let  us  guard  ourselves,  however,  from  draw- 
ing too  pessimistic  conclusions. 

The  study  of  social  and  political  life  in  the  Roman  Repub- 
lic has  not  presented  any  material  for  new  treatises  nor  any 
original  proceedings,  for  the  reason  that  the  problems  which 
contain  the  conclusion  of  the  subsequent  caroUaria  had  not 
been  well  solved.  The  life  of  the  Roman  people,  far  from 
constituting  a  characteristic  phenomenon,  as  it  was  con- 
ceived for  centuries,  and  in  part  was  understood  by  Momm- 
sen  himself,  is  but  the  last  and  quite  mature  phase  of  that 
civilization  which  continued  and  transformed  the  preceding 
activity  of  the  East.  Laying  aside  the  Roman  annals  which 
offer  a  premature  originality  obtained  through  falsification, 
there  remains  only  a  late  civilization  which  grafts  itself  on 
the  developed  Greek  world. 

In  Roman  civilization  there  does  not  exist  a  political  in- 
stitution or  situation  where  there  has  not  been  repercussion 
or  modification  of  the  anterior  civilization  of  Sicily  or 
Magna  Graeca,  and  later  of  Greece  itself  and  of  \\vt  Hellen- 
istic states.  Only  the  full  and  perfect  knowledge  of  the 
Greek  world  permits  a  clear  understanding  of  the  Roman 
one.  Thus  it  is  clearly  understood  how  a  Roman  history 
can  be  properly  related  only  when  the  great  problems  of 
Greek  and  Hellenistic  history  will  be  solved.     If,  however, 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  107 

in  the  half-centur}-  which  has  succeeded  to  the  first  appear- 
ance of  Momnisen's  book,  there  have  been  pubhshed  at  rare 
intervals  some  works  which  have  enlarged  the  field  of  our 
knowledge,  this  is  not  due  to  a  lack  of  material  adapted  to 
problems,  but  to  the  want  of  preparation  to  solve  them. 
\\'e  lack  a  good  history  relating  to  the  period  of  the  Gracchi, 
as  well  as  one  on  the  Social  Wars;  we  have  quite  incom- 
plete expositions  on  the  civil  wars  or  on  the  conditions  of 
the  Roman  provinces  during  the  Republic, 

But  I  do  not  think  I  am  too  much  of  an  optimist  when  I 
maintain  that  the  new  view  that  we  already  have  of  the 
Greek  world,  and  of  the  improved  comparison  of  law  and  of 
the  institutions  of  other  people,  will  have  the  effect  of  giv- 
ing us  in  the  near  future  a  new  and  quite  original  history  of 
the  Roman  Republic. 

The  examination  of  those  problems  w-hich  are  treated  in 
the  history  of  the  Empire  is  leading  us  apparently  to  en- 
tirely different  results. 

The  wonderful  energy  of  Mommsen,  the  great  compila- 
tion of  Corpus  Inscriptionum  Latinarum,  the  activity  of  a 
great  number  of  learned  men  belonging  to  all  nations  who 
accepted  Mommsen's  fundamental  criteria,  seems  to  have 
directed  the  problem  of  the  Empire  to  a  definite  solution. 
To  the  conception  which,  on  the  general  progress  of  the 
Empire,  was  given  by  that  prominent  scholar,  is  to  be 
added  that  of  those  writers  who  treated  the  history  of  the 
single  provinces. 

In  regard  to  the  technical  side,  the  researches  on  the  ad- 
ministrative, financial,  and  military  organizations,  and  on 
public  cult,  made  under  the  guidance  of  Marquardt  and 
Hirschfeld,  lead  to  precise  reconstructions  which  are  perfect 
in  many  respects. 

It  is  true  that  the  Roman  w^orld  has  not  yet  completed  the 
bringing  to  light  of  the  epigraphic  material  hidden  in  the 


lOS    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

bowels  of  the  earth  or  dispersed  over  lands  not  yet  explored 
by  the  historian.  It  is  also  true  that  though  papyri  have  in- 
creased in  a  great  measure  the  knowledge  of  private  law,  it 
may  from  one  moment  to  another  give  us  new  and  important 
information  also  on  public  law.  However,  so  far  as  we  can 
see,  the  general  lines  of  Roman  administration  will  not  be 
much  modified. 

Nevertheless,  all  these  previsions  do  not  lead  us  to  con- 
sider as  solved  the  problems  concerning  the  political  and 
social  reorganization  of  the  Empire.  Among  modern  writ- 
ers, and  especially  among  those  who  have  followed  the 
ideas  of  Mommsen,  the  general  tendency  has  been  to  glorify 
the  happiness  and  welfare  of  the  Roman  world.  They  have 
based  themselves  on  the  existence  of  the  colossal  ruins  scat- 
tered in  all  the  provinces,  on  the  regularity  and  perfection 
of  administrative  and  military  organizations,  on  the  ex- 
tension of  commerce,  and  on  the  enormous  development  of 
riches,  rather  than  on  literary  texts  which  do  not  seem 
always  to  help  their  thesis. 

The  discordant  voices  of  ancient  authors  are  interpreted 
as  interested  protests  and  outbursts  of  political  parties. 
The  happiness  of  the  Roman  Peace  and  of  the  Imperial  gov- 
ernment contrasts,  they  say,  with  the  hardness  and  rapacity 
of  republican  oligarchy;  and  the  folly  and  cruelty  of  princes 
is  compensated  by  the  upright  provincial  administration. 
In  all  this  there  is  evidently  some  exaggeration,  and  a  new 
verification  of  the  problem  imposes  itself.  The  grandeur 
and  the  diffusion  of  temples,  basilicas,  baths,  theatres,  and 
aqueducts  in  all  the  colonies  and  municipalities  of  the  vast 
Empire  is  not  sufficient  to  prove  that  the  general  happiness 
and  welfare  were  greater  there  than  in  the  capital,  which 
under  the  flifferent  bad  or  good  emperors  continued  con- 
stantly to  enrich  itself  with  new  edifices.  Thus  from  the 
wealth  and  elegance  of  the  Roman  churches  of  the  sixteenth 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  lui» 

to  the  eighteenth  centuries  nobody  certainly  would  dare 
draw  proofs  in  favor  of  the  moral  power  of  the  Papacy  dur- 
ing that  age,  and  of  the  general  happiness  and  dignity  of  the 
citizens  of  that  state.  And  just  as  it  is  proved  by  monu- 
ments, inscriptions,  edifices,  and  institutions,  that  the  life 
of  the  capital  was  reproduced  in  a  smaller  way  in  the  prov- 
inces, so  it  is  quite  natural  to  think  thai  also  the  moral  and 
civil  condition  should  have  been  reflected  there. 

The  plcbs  in  the  capital  lived  on  alms,  at  the  expense  of 
the  provinces,  and  there  a  municipal  nobility  composed  of  a 
small  number  of  families  uses  to  its  advantage  the  resources 
of  the  community.  This  municipal  nobility  will  enrich  the 
city  with  monuments  because  it  will  find  for  itself  a  way  of 
consuming  at  its  leisure  the  municipal  income.  In  Rome,  as 
in  the  provinces,  they  endeavor  to  repair  the  loss  of  the 
free  citizenship  by  alimentary  institutions;  but  there  can 
never  be  found  a  spirit  of  charity  for  the  poor  and  the 
oppressed ;  something  is  lacking  to  recall  even  the  hospitals 
which  were  attached  to  the  cult  of  Greek  ^sculapius.  The 
sportulae  handed  to  the  numerous  and  hungry  clients  under 
the  show  of  power,  by  the  disdainful  and  wealthy  patronus, 
makes  one  naturally  think  of  the  alms  wdiich  till  the  latter 
part  of  the  past  century  were  justifying  before  the  plehs  the 
riches  and  idleness  of  the  friars  in  the  Italian  convents. 
And  when  one  thinks  that  Vespasian,  certainly  one  of  the 
best  Roman  emperors,  found  nothing  better  than  to  redouble 
the  taxes  on  the  provinces,  and  imprudently  to  sell  absolu- 
tions, either  for  the  culprit,  or  for  the  innocent,  in  order 
to  restore  the  finances  of  the  state ;  and  that  he  chose  as  ad- 
ministrators of  the  provinces  magistrates  from  whom  he 
would  draw,  as  from  sponges,  the  ill-acquired  riches,  one 
may  well  ask  what  was  the  nature  of  this  general  welfare. 
At  any  rate  Hirschfeld's  researches  have  put  in  evidence 
how  little  w^as  done  during  the  first  three  centuries  of  the 


no    HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  ROME  AND  ASIA 

Empire  to  secure  life  and  property  in  Italy  and  in  the  prov- 
inces. Tacitus  has  made  us  hear  the  voice  of  protest  of  the 
Roman  families  only.  During  the  Cesarean  despotism  all 
free  speech  was  silenced ;  but  if  the  voice  of  the  provincials 
had  reached  us,  we  could  know  how  many  base  deeds  and 
adulations  determined  the  raising  of  statues  to  the  good 
Roman  governors.  A\'e  have  not  as  many  honorary  inscrip- 
tions for  good  emperors  as  for  the  wicked  Caracalla. 

In  reality,  under  the  Republic  as  under  the  Empire  the 
provinces  are  but  the  pracdia  populi  Romani.  The  Roman 
provinces  and  municipalities  are  only  a  vast  field  which  a 
clever  administration  makes  use  of  to  enrich  imperial 
functionaries,  and  the  classes  directing  the  community.  To 
derive  from  these  indications  a  general  happiness  would 
be  equivalent  to  affirming  that  the  remuneration  of  the 
workers  is  great  where  the  shareholders  have  a  large  divi- 
dend, or  if.  in  regarding  the  economical  side,  we  turn  to 
the  noble  spheres  of  letters,  of  arts  and  sciences,  we  see 
everywhere  the  signs  of  a  great  and  rapid  decadence.  The 
age  which  according  to  general  opinion  receives  its  light 
from  Augustus,  and  which  according  to  the  poet's  song 
marks  a  new  century,  is  but  the  beginning  of  the  last  phase 
of  a  great  civilization  which,  already  developed  with  the 
Greeks  in  the  eighth  century,  dies  with  Diocletian  and 
Constantine.  Notwithstanding  what  has  been  said  to  the 
contrary,  the  traces  of  decadence  are  visible  not  after  the 
Antonines,  but  with  Augustus  himself,  and  with  the  in- 
capacity officially  and  wisely  recognized  by  him  of  con- 
quering Britain,  restraining  the  Germans,  and  taming  the 
Parthians.  Such  decadence  is  after  a  few  generations  quite 
visible  in  art.  No  great  poet  succeeds  Virgil.  Tacitus 
marks  the  end  of  the  great  Roman  historiograph.  Art 
reproduces  in  large  and  pompus  manner  crystallized  forms, 
and  the  cold  and  artificial  religion  of  state  suffocates  and 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  ill 

dries  any  frank  and  noble  aspiration  in  tlie  human  soul. 
Free  speech  is  silent  everywhere;  cold  rhetoric  and  dec- 
lamation succeed  to  eloquence.  And  in  sciences,  with  the 
exception  of  the  development  of  great  public  edifices  which, 
as  the  history  of  Apollodorus  demonstrates,  is  always 
under  the  high  inspiration  of  Greek  doctrine,  all  is  trans- 
formed in  a  pure  empiricism  drying  the  germs  of  theoretical 
speculation.  Geometry  has  become  surveying,  and  medi- 
cine, judged  unworthy  of  being  studied  by  a  Roman  citizen, 
is  left  to  the  Greeks.  Ethics  and  philosophy  are  trans- 
formed into  law  and  regulation,  which  obliges  all  to  obey 
the  will  of  the  legislator,  who  is  clever  in  law,  but  more  so 
in  handling  the  sword.  And  the  greatest  pleasure  of  the 
Roman  society  is  not  to  hear,  as  in  the  fine  Athenian  times, 
the  pricking  playfulness  of  Aristophanes  or  divine  verse  of 
Euripides,  but  rather  to  assist  at  the  games  of  the  Circus, 
where  the  blood  of  the  dying  gladiators  and  that  of  the 
wild  beasts  stir  up  voluptuousness  and  a  desire  for  struggle. 
There  still  remains  military  glory.  But  patriotism  is  already 
changing  the  career  of  arms ;  Italians  are  despoiled  of  their 
weapons,  and  the  legion,  according  to  an  ancient  inscrip- 
tion from  Aquileia,  becomes  barbara.  In  the  Roman 
society  there  is  no  place  for  the  unwealthy,  and  it  is  quite 
natural  that  the  humble  and  afflicted  should  rapidly  con- 
tribute to  render  vigorous  the  incipient  Christian  society 
which,  having  later  become  powerful,  conquers  and  then 
associates  itself  to  the  decaying  Empire. 

The  love  of  war  and  glory  still  lasting  through  centuries 
in  Europe,  the  greatness  of  the  monumental  remains,  and 
the  inheritance  of  Roman  political  organizations  also  ac- 
cepted by  the  Church,  the  Roman  laws  which  absorbed 
all  the  legislative  work  of  the  ancient  world,  the  cares  for 
the  defense  of  the  Rhine,  Danube,  and  of  Asia  Minor,  the 
song  of  Virgil,   the  prose  of  Cicero  and  Livy,   are  such 


112    HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  ROME  AND  ASIA 

great  events  that  they  could  not  be  entirely  forgotten,  not 
even  by  the  rough  Ivliddle  Ages.  The  comparison  be- 
tween Romanity  and  the  subsequent  barbarism  of  Europe 
is  enough  to  explain  the  reverent  admiration  which  also 
in  these  last  centuries  has  existed  for  the  great  merits  of 
Roman  civilization.  But  an  exact  comparison  of  the  origin 
of  all  ancient  civilization  and  the  ties  that  the  Latin  world 
has  had  with  the  Greek  naturally  leads  to  a  better  under- 
stood and  measured  admiration.  When  studying  the  light 
we  must  not  neglect  the  shadows.  But  still  recognizing  all 
the  merits  of  Roman  civilization,  we  must  keep  in  mind 
all  that  was  done  by  the  preceding  nations.  Rome  civilized 
the  coast  of  Northern  Africa,  but  we  must  not  forget,  as 
some  critic  has  done,  the  preparatory  work  of  the  Car- 
thaginians from  whom  Rome  learned  for  the  first  time  the 
arts  of  agriculture.  It  is  Rome  that  has  the  merit  of 
having  civilized  the  Gauls,  but  we  must  not  pass  over  in 
silence  the  extended  and  beneficial  preparatory  work  of 
the  Greek  Massilia,  which  for  its  civil  institutions  and  its 
commerce  was  once  quite  superior  to  Rome,  and  even 
during  the  Empire  was  justly  chosen  by  Romans  as  a  seat 
for  the  moral  education  of  her  sons.  An  exact  balance 
of  all  that  has  been  produced  by  the  Roman  civilization 
has  not  yet  been  struck.  This  examination  will,  certainly 
in  many  instances,  prove  of  honor  to  the  Italian  people,  to 
whom  the  West  owes  the  transmission  of  light  on  the 
old  Hellenic  civilization.  Many  statistics  and  comparative  , 
works  that  are  still  needed,  for  instance,  for  the  Iberian 
Peninsula,  have  not  been  written.  And  such  researches 
will  have  to  consider  density  of  the  population,  the  true 
condition  and  transformation  of  slavery,  the  diffusion  of 
the  Eastern  cults,  and  finally  of  the  first  Christian  society. 
But  among  all  the  problems  which  have  not  yet  been  solved, 
the  most  difficult  and  the  most  complex  is  always  the  one 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  113 

on  the  value  of  the  political  work  of  the  Emperors  them- 
selves. 

Mommsen  rightly  observed  that  legend  is  found  just  as 
much  in  the  life  of  Fabricius  as  in  the  ancedote  of  the 
Emperor  Gains ;  and  as  Willrich  has  recently  demonstrated, 
many  data  of  Imperial  traditions  deserve  a  new  revision. 
But  in  order  to  resolve  the  problem  of  authenticity  in  the 
ancient  tales,  it  is  not  enough  to  establish  researches,  even 
diligent  ones,  on  the  discordance  and  on  the  presumable 
value  of  the  historical  sources.  Such  complex  problems 
can  be  solved  only  by  the  examination  of  other  historical 
periods.  The  critic  who  studies  the  Empire  is  immediately 
impressed  by  the  ferociousness  of  the  degenerate  princes. 
But  in  the  end  the  cruelty  of  Tiberius  is  not  greater  than 
that  of  Sylla,  and  the  intrigues  of  the  courts  of  the  Se- 
leucids  and  Ptolemies  are  useful  in  making  one  understand 
the  plotting  of  the  Palatine  Imperial  Palaces.  And  without 
having  recourse  to  the  easy  but  unhealthy  remedy  of  fixed 
formulas  taken  from  premature  treatises  on  the  historical 
development  of  all  societies,  it  is  clear  that  in  the  study  of 
the  ancient  Germanic  races  or  of  the  oriental  monarchies 
one  will  often  find  material  adapted  to  clear  up  problems 
of  the  ancient  classic  world.  Such  study,  for  instance,  can 
be  useful  to  the  solution  of  the  controverted  problem  of 
the  Script  ores  Historiae  Angnstae,  much  more  than  the 
infinite  series  of  proceedings  which  will  be  expounded  by 
the  philologist,  and  more  than  an  analytic  dictionary  of 
those  texts. 

At  any  rate,  the  history  of  the  Empire  contains  problems 
which  can  be  referred  also  in  great  part  to  posterior  his- 
tory. The  modern  historian  lives  in  an  epoch  when  war 
is  generally  considered  as  an  evil  to  be  avoided ;  the  scholar 
who  is  not  accustomed  to  arms  spends  his  time  between 
the  documents  of  the  archives  and  the  ruins  of  the  exca- 


114    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

vations.  He  does  not  feel  the  necessity  of  connecting  mili- 
tary events  which  he  is  not  in  a  condition  to  understand. 
If  necessary  he  turns  to  the  opinion  of  some  military  person 
more  or  less  used  to  interpret  and  to  understand  military 
texts.  Anyhow  modern  age  is  tending  to  solve  problems 
of  social  character,  and  critics,  generally,  if  only  for  the 
love  of  novelty,  ascertain  and  follow  the  tastes  of  their 
contemporaries.  And  more  than  to  the  problem  of  moral 
conscience,  which  determines  the  function  of  the  highest 
human  energies,  they  try  to  transport,  in  the  ancient  world, 
those  facts  which  are  tormenting  modern  societies,  without 
sufficiently  taking  into  consideration  different  conditions  in 
culture  and  faith,  in  density  of  population  and  in  social 
organisms. 

An  historian  of  the  first  order,  Polybius,  in  finding  fault 
with  historians  given  only  to  the  study  of  books,  praised 
Ephorus  for  his  being  in  condition  to  describe  a  land  bat- 
tle or  a  naval  operation,  just  as  Gibbon's  conteinporaries 
appreciated  his  military  knowledge.  Polybius  himself, 
quite  an  expert  in  arms  as  in  political  management,  was 
not  wrong.  To  narrate  the  destines  of  the  world,  de- 
termined by  the  result  of  military  events,  without  being 
in  a  condition  to  interpret  them,  is  like  writing  a  history 
of  literature  and  sciences,  giving  only  the  names  of  the 
authors  and  the  titles  of  the  works,  without  examining  the 
contents.  To  speak  of  Alexander  and  Hannibal  without 
considering  the  merits  of  their  strategy  and  tactical  move- 
ments, means  to  give  up  a  good  part  of  their  work,  and 
not  to  understand  the  nature  of  the  military  states  in 
which  those  same  events  happened,  and  for  w^hich  they 
were  written.  And  this  fact  holds  more  for  the  Roman 
world  which  lived  always  in  arms  than  for  the  Greek 
civilization..  Certainly  the  modern  historian  must  not  limit 
himself  to  narrate  that  which,  according  to  the  ancients. 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  iir, 

formed  the  essence  of  their  history.  He  has,  after  all,  the 
duty  to  retrace  those  elements  of  which  they  had  not  a  full 
kn()wledge,  and  which  are  useful  in  explaining  the  complex 
de\elopment  of  humanity.  But  in  such  a  case,  besides  the 
study  of  economic  forms,  it  is  necessary  to  turn  one's 
attention  to  the  development  of  religious  and  moral  opinion 
and  to  the  history  of  arts  and  sciences.  And  the  investiga- 
tion of  the  reasons  which  determine  the  reciprocal  action 
of  all  these  elements  and  the  preponderance  of  one  over 
the  other  according  to  the  different  ages  and  places,  con- 
stitutes the  most  complex  problem  which  the  historian  of 
the  ancient  world  is  called  upon  to  solve. 

The  method  of  making  chapters  in  literar3%  artistic, 
philosophical  history,  from  the  narrative  which  in  sub- 
stance is  constituted  of  external  facts,  is  now  out  of  date. 
The  history  of  a  people,  just  as  the  history  of  an  individual, 
is  subject  to  transformations  which  modify  its  activity.  If 
the  history  of  the  Roman  people  has  remained  essentially 
military  and  political,  that  of  the  Greek  races  presents 
instead  the  phenomenon  of  different  elements  combining 
with  one  another.  The  literary  and  artistic  history  of  the 
Athens  of  the  fifth  century  balances  that  more  strictly 
political,  but  the  development  of  criticism  and  of  sciences 
constitutes  certainly  one  of  the  most  important  character- 
istics of  the  age  of  the  Diadochi.  Thus  for  the  period  of 
the  Spanish  preponderance,  the  Italian  nations  will  very 
rarely  give  occasion  to  speak  of  arms,  but  will  offer,  in- 
stead, material  for  art,  for  the  study  of  the  works  of  Galileo 
and  of  Bruno. 

Politics,  military  art,  law,  economy,  fine  art,  science, 
from  the  historical  point  of  view,  form  a  complex  whole 
before  the  history  of  the  ancient  and  modern  world.  And 
since  the  unlimited  increase  of  knowledge  in  the  branches 
of  learnintf  makes  this  task  more  and  more  difficult,  it  is 


116    HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  ROME  AND  ASIA 

evident  that  our  education,  freed  from  useless  teachings 
and  old  prejudices,  must  be  strengthened  by  the  study  of 
the  sciences.  But  it  will  not  be  enough  to  reform  the 
organization  of  our  colleges,  we  shall  have  still  to  break 
the  barriers  of  our  faculties ;  because  if  it  is  true  that  no 
science  can  improve  without  long  and  detailed  technical 
researches,  it  is  also  true  that  the  studies  of  specialists  con- 
tain rarely  important  results,  unless  they  are  guided  by 
large  conceptions  and  are  coordinated  with  various  and 
kindred  sciences. 

And  among  the  sciences  which  are  destined  to  make 
future  historiography  improve,  politics  comes  first.  This 
recommendation  may  at  first  seem  ingenuous  or  altogether 
useless,  unless  one  consider  how,  after  having  naturally 
exempted  some  famous  works,  nearly  all  the  modern  pro- 
duction in  the  field  of  classic  antiquity  is  due  to  the  activ- 
ity of  the  philologist.  The  necessity  of  investigating  the 
literary  texts,  of  long  and  detailed  researches  on  the  reci- 
procal dependence  of  the  sources,  of  interpreting  epigraphic 
texts,  and  now  more  than  formerly,  also  the  papyri,  render 
the  help  of  philological  training  precious  and  indispensible. 

But  it  is  also  just  to  recognize  that  in  nearly  all  the 
historical  production,  due  to  the  philological  school,  the 
political  sense  is  nearly  always  missing. 

It  is  then  necessary  to  see  to  it  that  those  who  will  be 
called  upon  to  solve  the  future  problems,  though  dedicat- 
ing themselves  to  all  the  sciences  which  constitute  the  his- 
torical organism,  should  take  part  in  political  life,  avoiding, 
however,  becoming  victims  of  those  prejudices  which  guide 
the  parties  that  are  the  natural  product  of  the  political 
atmosphere.  And  of  all  these  preconceptions  one  of  the 
most  damaging  is  that  born  of  blind  patriotism.  Few 
among  the  human  sentiments  have  contributed  so  much  as 
patriotism    to   keep    alive    the   remembrance   of  historical 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  i]7 

facts,  and  to  promote  the  increment  of  researches  in  the 
past.  But  it  is  not  less  true  that  tliis  sentiment  has  brought 
the  greatest  disadvantage  to  historical  trutli. 

It  is  superfluous  to  recall  examples  of  the  first  cases; 
it  is  much  more  useful  instead  to  observe  in  how  many 
instances  the  objective  history  of  a  people  has  been  usefully 
told  by  strangers  and  even  by  rival  nations.  If  Polybius 
was  able  to  expose  a  narrative  of  Roman  events,  as  no 
other  Italian  historian  could,  this  did  not  arise  only  from 
his  political  culture  and  clear-sightedness,  but  also  from 
the  fact  that,  belonging  to  a  conquered  nation,  he  was  not 
blinded  by  national  pride.  This  greater  objectivity  dis- 
tinguished also  the  political  work  of  Trogus  Pompeius 
from  the  annals  of  the  Paduan  Livy.  The  horizon  of  the 
eloquent  Livy  did  not  extend  beyond  the  Urbs  and  Pa- 
tavium,  while  Trogus  Pompeius  saw  the  Roman  deeds 
from  the  point  of  view  of  universal  history,  and  therefore 
gave  to  them  a  better  proportioned  part  in  the  history  of 
the  world.  If  the  histories  of  Theopompus  or  other 
authors  known  to  Plutarch  had  come  to  us,  we  should 
certainly  have  quite  a  different  history  of  the  Persian  wars 
from  that  of  Herodotus,  inspired  by  the  glorification  of 
Athens.  Germany,  with  Ranke's  and  Von  Sybel's,  has 
given  the  best  histories  of  the  Catholic  counter-reform  and 
of  the  French  Revolution.  And  we  do  not  need  to  men- 
tion to  you  the  value  of  Prescott's  and  Irving's  studies  on 
the  most  brilliant  periods  of  the  Spanish  domination.  The 
patriotic  historian  is  bound  by  a  thousand  prejudices  of 
education,  and  is  not  always  in  condition  to  judge  with 
perfect  clearness  the  events  of  his  country.  Even  if  he  be 
free  from  preconceptions,  he  feels  tightly  bound  by  many 
considerations,  and  if  he  says  all  the  truth  he  exposes  him- 
self to  censure.  Still  the  treating  of  the  same  agruments 
with  stereotyped  views  does  not  lead  to  any  scientific  re- 


lis    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

suits.  \\*hat  is  of  advantage  to  the  progress  of  sciences 
and  arts  is  freshness  of  impressions  and  new  energies 
which  substitute  themselves  for  the  old  ones.  And  since 
you  Americans,  with  a  new  and  unfailing  impulse  of  youth, 
open  your  universities  to  the  study  of  all  the  problems  of 
old  Europe,  let  us  hope  that  with  your  work  a  more  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  ancient  world  may  be  reached.  Like  all 
young  and  robust  organisms,  you  are  naturally  inclined 
to  break  down  the  tendency  toward  routine  which  too  often 
binds  the  work  of  European  scholars.  From  the  contact 
of  old  with  new  theories,  there  will  certainly  come  out 
sparks  which  will  be  destined  to  throw  new  light  on  the 
infinite  problems  of  the  classical  world.  The  study  of  the 
early  belief  and  social  forms  of  America  has  contributed 
to  explain  questions  of  ancient  mythology  and  classical 
anthropology  which  remained  inexplicable  mysteries  for 
generations  of  learned  men.  In  turn  the  political  study  of 
old  Europe,  and  especially  of  the  classical  world,  will  make 
more  clearly  understood  the  destinies  to  which  the  United 
States  of  America  are  called. 

In  fact,  the  conception  that  political  history  should  be 
studied  by  itself,  with  no  other  aim  but  mere  curiosity, 
must  be  rejected,  as  well  as  the  idea  that  any  other  science 
is  not  destined  to  have  a  practical  application  in  life.  The 
purpose  of  this  great  Congress,  to  which  you  have  called 
all  sciences  to  be  represented,  pure  and  experimental,  the- 
oretical and  practical,  is  the  best  guarantee  that  the  scien- 
tific, American  society  will  not  be  lost  either  among  the 
fogs  of  abstractions  or  the  vulgarity  of  empiricism.  If 
among  the  decadent  nations  or  those  about  to  decay,  men 
who  are  without  ideality  and  who  ignore  art  or  science 
are  put  at  the  helm,  in  the  countries  which  are  destined 
to  a  prosperous  future  public  interests  are  instrusted  to 
those  who  best  understand  the  history,  and  therefore  the 
hopes,  of  their  country. 


PROBLEMS  IN  ROMAN  HISTORY  119 

It  is  not  strange  that  nearly  all  Roman  historians  should 
have  been  statesmen;  and  statesmen  were  Machiavelli,  Ma- 
caiilay,  and  Bancroft.  Without  knowing  the  biological 
precedents  the  cure  of  an  invalid  is  not  possible,  just  as 
without  a  long  experience  of  the  past  it  is  not  possible  to 
provide  for  the  future  of  nations. 

The  study  of  old  Europe,  its  glories,  and  its  errors,  is 
a  sacred  patrimony  which  she  divides  with  the  United 
States,  which  have  the  task  of  forming  a  new  and  great 
civilized  society.  The  Roman  and  Greek  civilization  is  a 
great  part  of  this  patrimony,  and  is  worthy  of  your  cares, 
because  it  contains  the  best  part  of  institutions  and  tra- 
ditons  which  you  are  called  upon  to  study  and  partly  to 
follow. 

The  immense  space  of  sea  which  separates  you  from 
Europe  and  from  Eastern  Asia,  the  lack  of  danger  of  an 
invasion  from  the  north,  and  even  less  so  from  the  south, 
seem  at  first  glance  to  place  the  United  States  in  a  situation 
quite  different  from  that  of  the  old  European  civilization. 
But  the  speed  which  will  be  attained  by  steamers  in  the 
near  future  will  render  these  distances  proportionately 
smaller  than  the  Ionian  and  the  Tyrrhene  seas  were  once 
for  the  Athenians  navigating  toward  Syracuse,  and  for 
the  Romans  fighting  against  Carthage. 

Greece  and  Rome  had  in  the  Mediterranean  a  position 
which  recalls,  in  part,  the  interoceanic  situation  of  the 
United  States.  They  transmitted  successively  to  the  West 
the  civilization  received  from  the  East,  and  the  United 
States  are  already  called  to  take  great  part  in  the  trans- 
formation of  the  yellow  races. 

The  economic  and  social  foundation  of  the  Romans  was 
based  on  slavery:  you,  instead,  have  freed  the  negro  from 
bondage.  But  the  complete  participation  of  the  latter  in 
your  political  counsels  constitutes  one  of  the  greatest  prob- 


120    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

lems  which  you  are  called  to  solve.  And  it  will  be  all  your 
glory  if  you  shall  find  a  better  solution  than  the  ancient 
world.  The  immense  development  of  your  finances,  which 
seems  fabulous  to  us  old  races,  reminds  one  of  the  similar 
enormous  development  during  the  Empire.  You  have  the 
daring  and  practical  mind  of  the  Romans,  the  greatness 
of  their  works,  and  the  firmness  of  their  character.  But 
the  love  for  sciences  and  arts  protects  you  from  the  danger 
which  threatens  the  plutocratic  societies.  This  love  for 
science  and  art,  which  causes  you  to  multiply  your  uni- 
versities, libraries,  and  museums,  takes,  however,  its  first 
and  more  vital  inspiration  from  that  brilliant  Greek  civiliza- 
tion which  transfused  itself  into  the  Italian  Renaissance. 
And  while  in  so  many  parts  of  Europe  old  forms  of  social 
organizations  are  still  living,  you  are,  on  the  contrary, 
destined  to  maintain  brighter  than  ever  the  most  luminous 
fiame  of  the  old  Greek  and  Latin  civilization. 

The  cult  of  that  freedom  which  you  placed  as  a  glorious 
symbol  just  where  the  Atlantic  touches  your  shores  is  an 
omen  of  unhampered  enterprise  and  active  life  for  all 
those  who,  coming  to  you  from  distant  countries,  have  the 
aspiration  to  share  your  community. 

The  glorious  history  of  your  independence  shines 
through  the  greatness  of  Washington  and  Lincoln.  You 
are  worthy  of  continuing  the  cult  of  Pericles,  Timoleon, 
and  Scipio ;  and  permit  me,  to  whom  you  have  given  the 
great  honor  of  speaking  about  the  ancient  civilization  of 
the  land  of  Columbus,  Amerigo,  and  Cabot,  to  recall  here 
my  fellow  citizen,  Carlo  Botta;  only  a  few  years  after  your 
war  of  independence,  the  Piedmontese  Carlo  Botta  was  the 
first  among  Italians  to  relate  your  history,  glorifying  the 
virtues  of  Washington,  and  through  your  example  endeav- 
oring to  stamp  a  seal  of  infamy  on  the  tyranny  then  reign- 
ing in  Europe,  and  to  spur  the  soul  of  his  citizens  to  the 
cult  of  freedom. 


THE  UmVERSITT  OF  PARIS  IN  THE  THIRTEENTH  CENTURY 

Iland-painted  Photogravure  from  a  Painting  by  Otto  Knille.    Reproduced  from 

a  Photograph,  of  the  Painting  by  permission  of  the 

Berlin  Photograph  Co. 

Tliis  famous  painting  is  now  in  tlie  University  of  Berlin.  Thomas  Amiinas,  one 
of  liie  greatest  of  tlie  scliolasiic  pliilo>iopliers,  surnanied  the  "Angelic  Doctor.'"  is 
leliverinw  a  learned  discourse  before  King  Louis  IX.  To  the  right  of  the  King 
-lands  Joinville,  the  French  clironioler.  The  Dominican  monk  with  his  hand 
to  his  face  is  Guiilaume  de  Saint  Amour,  and  Vincent  de  Beauvais  and  another 
Dominican  are  seated  with  their  backs  to  the  platform  desk  from  which  Thomas 
Aquinas  is  making  liis  animated  address.  Tiie  picnire  is  thoroughly  characteristic 
of  a  University  disputation  at  the  close  of  the  Middle  Ages. 


A   GENERAL    SURVEY    OF    THE   HISTORY    OF 

ASIA,  WITH   SPECIAL   REFERENCE  TO 

CHINA  AND  THE  FAR  EAST. 

BY   HENRI   CORDIER 

[Henri  Coediee,  Professor  of  I'Ecole  des  Langues  Orientales 
Vivantes,  1881,  Paris,  b.  August  8,  1849,  New  Orleans,  Louisiana. 
A.B.  University  of  Paris;  Litt.D.  University  of  Cape  Good  Hope; 
Chinese  Mandarin  of  the  third  class,  with  decoration  of  "Precious 
Star,"  third  degree;  Professor  at  Ecole  Libre  des  Sciences 
Politiques,  1886-95;  Secretary  of  the  Chinese  Educational  Mission, 
1877-81;  President  of  the  Council  Societe  de  Geographie,  1904; 
Member  of  the  Scientific  Committee  of  the  Ministry  of  Public 
Instruction;  Honorary  Member  Royal  Asiatic  Society;  Hon.  Cor- 
responding Member  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society;  Vice- 
President  of  the  Societe  des  Traditions  Populaires;  Socio  della 
R.  Deputazione  Veneta  di  Storia  Patria,  etc.  At^thor  of  Histoire 
des  Relations  de  la  Chine  avec  les  Puissances  Occidentales ;  Atlas 
Sino  Corcen;  Bibliotheca  Sinica;  Marco  Polo.  Editor  and  founder 
of  the  Revue  de  VExtrdme  Orient  and  of  the  T'oung-pas.] 

In  attempting  to  draw  in  less  than  an  hour  a  sketch  of 
the  history  of  Asia,  I  am  fully  aware  of  the  difficulty  as 
well  as  of  the  grandeur  of  the  task  which  has  been  intrusted 
to  me.  It  cannot  be  expected  that  in  the  short  space  of 
time  allotted  to  the  lecturer,  a  complete  idea  of  this  vast 
subject  can  be  given.  I  can  only  sum  up  the  main  points 
and  designate  the  landmarks  of  the  unbroken  chain  of  facts 
which  from  our  days  goes  back  to  the  most  ancient  period 
of  the  history  of  mankind.  When  we  search  into  the 
remotest  past  of  Asia,  the  geologist,  not  the  historian, 
presents  a  very  surprising  spectacle  to  our  view :  two  lands 
stand  opposite;  one,  to  the  north,  shaping  a  long  arch  round 
what  is  to-day  Irkutsk;  the  other,  to  the  south,  constitutes 
a  portion  of  the  future  peninsula  of  Hindustan ;  a  large 
mediterranean  sea,  to  which  M.  Suess  has  given  the  name 
of   Tethys,    separates   the   two  continents;   this   ocean,   in 

121 


122    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

gradually  drying  up,  has  by  its  folds  given  rise  to  the 
Pamirs,  the  Himalayas,  the  high  Tibetan  Tableland, — and 
its  total  disappearance  and  the  union  of  the  two,  northern 
and  southern,  lands  gave  birth  to  Asia. 

If  we  seek  into  this  vast  continent  for  the  territory  hav- 
ing: an  authentic  record  of  the  oldest  times,  we  find  it  in 
the  lands  of  biblical  tradition,  Chaldea  and  Elam,  where 
Asia  tells  again  the  story  of  its  past  with  the  most  irre- 
fragable evidence  in  the  inscriptions  registered  on  stones 
which,  lying  buried  for  centuries,  have  withstood  the  wear 
and  tear  of  ages;  thus  has  been  revealed  to  us  the  oldest 
code  of  the  world,  the  Law  of  Hammurabi,  discovered  at 
Susa  by  M.  J.  de  Morgan,  and  described  by  the  Dominican 
Father  v.  Scheil,  both  Frenchmen.  However,  if  Elam 
carries  us  back  to  a  period  further  than  four  thousand 
years  before  Christ,  other  countries  of  Asia,  including 
those  which  are  supposed  to  possess  the  most  ancient  civil- 
ization, are  far  from  giving  the  material  proof  of  the  high 
antiquity  to  which  their  books  and  their  legends  lay  an 
unfounded  claim. 

India  cannot  boast  of  a  single  monument  which  for  age 
is  to  be  compared  with  those  of  Nineveh  and  of  Egypt, 
and  before  the  eighth  century  b.  c,  no  solid  basis  to  the 
history  of  China  is  to  be  found.  The  perishable  quality 
of  the  materials  used  in  rearing  the  edifices  of  this  last 
country  cannot  allow  us  to  hope  that  the  zeal  of  mod- 
ern archaeologists  will  unearth  the  secret  of  monuments 
vanished  long  ago. 

In  the  actual  state  of  science,  theories  only  can  be  im- 
agined to  account  for  the  genesis  of  Asiatic  nations,  and 
a  common  origin  exists  but  in  the  fancy  of  a  few  learned 
men.  It  was  very  natural  to  look  for  the  first  migrations 
and  the  first  civilizations  about  Elam  and  Chaldea,  and 
from  this  authentic  and  venerable  source  let  flow  the  great 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    123 

streams  to  the  various  extremities  of  Asia;  it  has  been 
possible  from  isolated  facts  to  build  ingenious  theories  like 
that  of  Terrien  de  Lacouperie,  but  at  the  present  time  noth- 
ing definite  gives  us  a  right  to  broach  an  opinion  with 
regard  to  the  primitive  inhabitants  of  Oriental  Asia  and 
their  cradle. 

When  I  was  honored  with  an  invitation  to  come  and 
speak  here,  I  believed  it  to  be  expected  that  I  should  not 
delay  too  much  in  treating  of  the  ancient  times  of  the 
history  of  Asia,  and  in  dealing  with  facts  which  are  im- 
portant in  themselves,  but  are  nevertheless  secondary  in 
their  results.  What  I  am  expected  to  give  is  a  general 
view,  an  ensemble.  I  shall  try  to  show  the  chief  influences 
which  gave  life  to  the  immense  Asiatic  Continent  and  to 
mark  out  the  place  it  occupies  in  the  general  history  of  the 
world,  making  large  allowance  for  Central  Asia  and  the 
Far  East,  which  have  been  the  object  of  my  special  study. 

During  a  long  time  Europe  remained  in  complete  ignor- 
ance of  the  steady  though  irregular  movements  of  the 
po[)u]ations  of  Asia,  which  was  really  a  volcano  in  erup- 
tion, the  terrible  effects  of  which  were  felt  afar.  When 
the  Roman  Empire  crumbling  to  pieces  was  threatened 
westwards  by  the  barbarians  of  Germanic  race, — Teutonic. 
Gothic,  or  Scandinavian, — these,  pressed  in  their  turn  l)y 
the  wild  hordes  from  Asia,  like  a  rolling  wave  invaded  the 
Empire,  and  crushed  in  by  the  new-comers  founded  as  far 
as  Spain  more  or  less  flourishing  kingdoms  at  the  expense 
of  the  domain  of  the  Caesars.  Tlie  march  of  the  Huns 
from  the  heart  of  Asia  is  in  great  part  the  cause  of  these 
migrations  of  people;  menacing  the  Chinese  territory,  driv- 
ing away  the  Yue-chi,  a  branch  of  the  Eastern  Tartars, 
who,  after  several  halts  of  which  we  shall  speak  further 
on,  carved  for  themselves  an  empire  on  the  banks  of  the 
Indus  at  the  cost  of  the  occupiers  of  the  valley  of  this  river. 


124    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

The  invading  Huns,  like  a  huge  wave,  gained  gradually  on 
from  horde  to  horde,  from  tribe  to  tribe,  from  people  to 
people,  till  they  reached  Europe,  which,  when  struck  by 
the  Scourge  of  God,  could  not  discern  whence  the  blow 
was  first  dealt. 

During  the  course  of  the  fifth  century,  the  Huns  under 
Attila  had  not  only  subdued  all  the  Tartar  nations  of  Cen- 
tral Asia,  but  had  also  brought  under  the  yoke  the  whole 
of  the  German  tribes  between  the  Volga  and  the  Rhine. 
The  defeat  of  the  great  chief  by  the  allied  armies  of  the 
Franks,  the  Visigoths,  and  the  Romans  at  the  battle  of  the 
Catalaunic  Fields  (451),  his  death  two  years  later,  stopped 
the  tide  of  the  Eastern  invaders ;  as  the  victory  of  Charles 
Martel  at  Poitiers  (732),  three  centuries  later,  set  bounds 
to  the  throng  of  Arabs,  who,  after  having  torn  the  north 
of  Africa  from  the  Roman  Empire,  had  crossed  the  sea, 
destroying  the  power  of  the  Visigoths,  who,  after  a  long 
migratory  period  throughout  Europe,  had  apparently  found 
a  permanent  home  in  the  Iberian  Peninsula. 

The  invasion  of  the  barbarians,  who  flocked  together  to 
sliare  the  spoils  of  the  agonizing  Roman  Empire  in  the 
fifth  century,  will  continue  later  on  with  the  Mongol  raids 
and  till  1453,  the  year  of  the  capture  of  Constantinople  by 
the  Turkish  Osmanlis,  which  we  may  consider  to  mark 
the  climax  of  the  Asiatic  encroachments. 

We  shall  see  the  counterpart  of  these  great  movements 
when  the  Western  nations,  after  doubling  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  shall  resume  the  route  of  India  in  the  course 
of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Buddhism,  the  doctrine  of  the  disciples  of  Shakyamuni, 
has  no  doubt  been  one  of  the  principal  means  of  facilitating 
the  intercourse  of  the  nations  throughout  Asia ;  it  has  been 
the  sun  at  which  the  civilization  of  many  have  lit  their 
torch ;  indeed  a  writer  could  say — not  without  some  good 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    125 

reason — thit  the  history  of  Buddhism  is  in  itself  the  history 
of  Eastern  Asia. 

The  spread  of  Buddhism  and  its  wider  diffusion  from 
India  to  the  remainder  of  Asia  was  greatly  increased 
by  the  support  received  from  some  princes  and  by  the 
peregrinations  of  its  devotees. 

After  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  whose  cam- 
paign against  Porus  brought  India  into  contact  with  the 
great  Hellenic  civilization,  one  of  the  lieutenants  of  the 
great  conqueror,  Seleucus,  took  as  his  share  of  the  in- 
heritance the  eastern  part  of  the  Empire,  but  as  early  as 
304  he  was  obliged  to  surrender  the  satrapy  of  India  to  a 
man  of  low  condition  called  Chandragupta  by  the  Buddh- 
ists and  Sandracottos  by  the  Greeks.  Chandragupta  was 
the  founder  in  Magadha  of  a  dynasty  of  princes ;  his  grand- 
son Asoka,  surnamed  Piyadasi  (died  240  b.  c),  in  estab- 
lishing a  board  of  foreign  missions,  DJiarma  Mahamatra, 
gave  a  considerable  extension  to  Buddhism,  not  only  in 
his  own  dominions,  but  also  in  the  surrounding  countries 
as  far  as  Deccan. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  tribes  of  Eastern  Tartars  known 
to  the  Chinese  as  the  Yue-chi,  driven  by  force  to  the  west 
by  the  Hiung-nu  (Huns),  divided  themselves  into  two 
branches ;  the  Little  Yue-chi  who  settled  in  Tibet,  and  the 
Great  Yue-chi  who  advanced  to  the  banks  of  the  Hi,  and 
in  163  B.  c.  occupied,  in  the  place  of  the  Sakas,  the  country 
south  of  the  Tien-shan  where  Yarkand  and  Kashgar  now 
stand.  Some  years  later  the  Yue-chi,  pressed  in  their  turn 
by  the  Wu-sun,  once  more  drove  the  Sakas  out  of  Sog- 
diana,  beyond  the  Oxus,  to  the  country  watered  by  the 
Cabul  River.  About  35  b.  c.  the  leader  of  these  Yue-chi 
subdued  Cabul,  Kashmir,  and  Penjal.  The  conversion  to 
Buddhism  of  one  of  his  successors,  Kanichka,  the  greatest 
chief  of  the  Yue-chi  or  Indo-Scyths,  gave  a  fresh  impulse 


126    HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  ROME  AXD  ASIA 

to  the  zeal  of  the  followers  of  Shakyamuni ;  from  15  b.  c. 
to  45  A.  D.  was  held  in  Kashmir  the  great  oecumenic  council 
which  finally  revised  the  canon  accepted  in  the  north  but 
rejected  by  the  Church  of  Ceylon. 

We  may  be  asked  at  what  time  Buddhism  reached  China. 
We  cannot  answer  with  any  degree  of  certainty.      Some 
savants  give  221   and  219  b.  c.  as  the  date  of  the  intro- 
duction of  Buddhism  into  China ;  there  is  nothing  really 
authoritative  to  support  their   assertion.     We  may   fairly 
suppose  that  the  warlike  expeditions  against  the  Hiung-nu 
conveyed  to  China  some  knowledge  of  Buddhist  worship. 
The  new  doctrine  was  introduced  into  China  by  the  way 
of  Central  Asia ;  one  thing  is  certain,  that  in  the  year  2 
B.  c.  an  embassy  was  sent  by  the  Chinese  Emperor  Ngai 
to  the  Ta  Yue-chi  and  that  its  chief  got  some  oral  informa- 
tion  about  the  new   religion.      Buddhism   was   recognized 
ofiBcially  in  China  by  the  Han  Dynasty ;  the  dynasty  of  the 
Later  Han  (24-220  a.  d.)  had  dominated  in  Central  Asia, 
and,  though  weakened  for  years,  their  rule  had  been  main- 
tained with   still  more  force  by  Wu  Ti,  of  the  Western 
Tsin   (265-290).     To  this  period   (269)  belong  the  docu- 
ments, so  interesting  for  the  administration  as  well  as  for 
the  religion  of  this  region,  discovered  during  recent  years 
by  Dr.   M.   A.   Stein,   of  the   Indian   Educational   Service, 
at  Uzun  Tati,  between  Khotan  and  Niya,  in  the  desert  of 
Takkla  Makkan,  explored  by  Sven  Hedin.     Of  that  time 
also  are  the  documents  dug  from  the  sand-buried  town  of 
,,Lau-lan  near  the  Lob-nor,  by  Sven  Hedin  himself.     The 
*  Hindu  civilization  which   borders  on   the  desert  of  Gobi, 
from   Khotan   to   the   Lob-nor,   to   Hami   and  to   Turfan, 
vanished    rapidly    after    Wu    Ti ;    under   the    great    T'ang 
Dynasty,   during  the   second   half   of  the   eighth   century, 
the  Tibetans  threatened  the   authority  of   llie   Chinese   in 
the  country  of  the  Four  Garrisons  (Kucha,  Khotan,  Kara- 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    127 

shahr,  and  Kashgar),  namely.  Eastern  Turkestan.  From 
791  onwards  the  Tibetans,  masters  of  Turfan  and  the  sur- 
rounding countries,  had  completely  ousted  the  Chinese, 
whose  mandarins  had  been  recalled  in  784  by  the  Imperial 
Government  on  account  of  the  hopeless  situation  in  the 
region. 

The  Chinese  Buddhist  pilgrims,  eager  to  get  the  good 
word  from  the  source  itself,  were  drawn  along  the  road 
of  High  Asia  to  the  valley  of  the  Sacred  Ganges  in  quest 
of  the  books  giving  the  Key  to  the  Holy  Doctrine;  since 
the  fourth  century  large  bodies  of  pilgrims,  while  accom- 
plishing their  pious  journey,  have  done  at  the  same  time 
considerable  geographical  work:  Hiuen  Tsang,  to  name 
the  most  famous  among  them,  not  only  takes  a  place  in 
China  with  the  most  revered  personages  of  his  church,  but 
stands  in  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  great  Asiatic  travelers, 
by  the  side  of  the  illustrious  Venetian  Marco  Polo.  How- 
ever, it  was  not  until  1410,  under  the  Aling  Dynasty,  that 
the  Chinese  obtained  at  last  possession  of  the  full  canon 
of  Buddhist  Books  which  serves  to  millions  of  adherents 
in  the  Far  East  as  a  guide  for  their  conduct. 

From  Central  Asia,  Buddhism  spread  to  China;  from 
China,  as  early  as  372,  it  entered  Korea,  and  thence  in 
552  passed  on  to  Japan.  In  the  mean  time  it  had  been 
introduced  in  407  to  Tibet,  where  after  being  severely 
persecuted,  it  has  achieved  its  greatest  triumphs,  the  King 
of  Tibet,  Srongtsan  Gampo,  hnving  been  converted  to  the 
new  faith  by  his  Chinese  and  Nepalese  wives  (640).  With 
its  doctrine  Buddhism  carried  along  everywhere  this  subtle 
art  which  had  felt  the  influence  of  the  ancient  Greeks, 
brought  to  the  banks  of  the  Indus  by  the  companions  of 
Alexander  the  Great.  From  the  fourth  to  the  eleventh 
century,  that  is  to  say,  between  the  beginning  of  the  in- 
roads of  the  Indo-Scyths  and  the  Mohammedan  Conquest 


128    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

of  India,  during  the  Buddhist  ^Middle  Ages,  the  Graeco- 
Buddhist  art  was  in  a  highly  flourishing  state  and  its 
influence  spread  to  the  Far  East. 

However,  in  paying  a  just  tribute  to  this  delicate  and 
charming  art  which  played  so  important  a  part  in  the 
artistic  development  of  the  Far  East,  it  would  be  unfair 
not  to  mention  that  the  Chinese,  previously  to  its  intro- 
duction in  their  empire,  had  a  national  art,  not  despicable 
in  the  least  degree — witness  this  fourth  century  picture  of 
Ku  K'ai-che,  described  by  Chinese  historians,  happily  dis- 
covered and  rescued  at  Pe-king  during  the  events  of  1900, 
and  now  kept  safely  in  the  British  Museum,  forever  we 
hope.^ 

Buddhism,  now  one  of  the  three  state  religions  in  China, 
after  suffering  persecutions  in  Japan  from  the  hands  of 
Nobunaga  in  the  course  of  the  sixteenth  century,  somewhat 
somnolent  for  many  years,  is  at  present  in  a  period  of 
magnificent  renaissance  in  the  Empire  of  the  Rising  Sun, 
where  the  labors  of  Bunyiu  Nanjio  and  of  Takakusu  se- 
cure for  it  an  important  place.  Many  Japanese  scholars, 
fascinated  by  the  doctrines  of  evolution,  think  these  are 
to  be  found  in  Buddhism. 

Christianity  spread  at  first  in  Central  Asia  under  the 
form  of  Manicheism  and  of  Nestorianism ;  only  recently 
the  Mo-ni,  lost  among  the  numerous  religious  sects  men- 
tioned by  Chinese  historians,  have  been  with  some  degree 
of  certainty  identified  with  the  disciples  of  Manichee,  who 
played  but  a  small  part  compared  with  that  of  the  Nes- 
torians  arrived  in  China  in  the  seventh  century,  as  the  cele- 
brated inscription  of  781  discovered  in  1625  at  Si-ngan-fu, 
capital  of  the  Shen-si  Province,  testifies.  Under  the  Mon- 
gol Dynasty  of  Chinguiz  Khan,  in  the  course  of  the  thir- 
teenth  century,   Nestorians   through   Tangut   and   Central 

*  Of.  Burlington  Magazine,  January,  1904  ;  T'oung-pas,  1904. 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    129 

Asia,  from  Khanbaliq  (Pe-king)  to  Bagdad,  held  an  un- 
broken line  of  archbishops  and  bishops;  the  innumerable 
stones  which  cover  their  graves,  especially  in  the  province 
of  Samiriethie,  bear  witness  to  the  number  and  importance 
of  these  Nestorians. 

From  the  time  of  St.  Louis  and  the  meeting  of  a  Council 
at  Lyons,  we  trace  the  great  progress  of  the  Missions  of 
the  Roman  Church.  The  Catholic  world  of  Central  and 
Western  Europe  was  full  of  zeal  for  the  propagation  of 
the  Gospel  in  Asia,  where  the  somewhat  mythical  Christian 
prince  known  under  the  name  of  Prester  John  lived,  and 
cherished  also  the  hope  to  oppose  invading  Islam  with  a 
barrier  of  Mongol  tribes.  Hence  the  missions  of  the  Fran- 
ciscan brother  John  of  Piano  Carpini,  sent  in  1245  by 
Pope  Innocent  IV  to  the  camps  of  Batu  and  of  Cuyuk 
Khan,  and  of  the  Dominican  monk  William  of  Rubruk, 
dispatched  by  the  King  of  France,  St.  Louis,  in  1253,  to 
the  court  of  the  Great  Khan  Mangu  at  Karakorum,  whose 
journeys  have  been  edited  with  so  much  skill  and  care  for 
thv.  Hakluyt  Society  by  our  President,  the  Hon.  William 
W.  Rockhill.  Missionaries  were  dispatched  to  Khanbaliq 
(Pe-king),  to  the  Fu-Kien  province,  to  Central  Asia,  and 
bishoprics  were  created  at  Khanbaliq,  at  Zaitun,  and  at 
Ili-baliq.  All  these  missions  disappeared  in  the  course  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  either  destroyed  in  Central  Asia 
by  the  influx  of  Mohammedanism  or  on  account  of  the 
accession  of  the  Ming  Dynasty  to  the  throne  of  China  in 
1368. 

Missionaries  returned  to  China  only  in  1579,  but  the 
evangelization  in  this  country  was  in  truth  the  work  of  the 
Jesuit  Fathers  and  especially  of  the  celebrated  Matteo  Ricci, 
who  died  at  Pe-king  in  1610.  Christianity,  which  was  very 
flourishing  in  the  seventeenth  century,  soon  declined,  owing 
to  the  petty  quarrels  between  religious  orders,  and  the  bull 


130    HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  ROME  AND  ASIA 

of  Benedict  XIV,  B.v  quo  si)igulari,  dealt  to  the  missions 
a  death-blow  in  1742,  as  it  proscribed  the  liberal  doctrines 
advocated  by  the  Jesuits  in  the  worship  paid  by  the  natives 
to  Confucius  and  to  their  ancestors. 

Protestant  missions  in  China  are  of  a  far  more  recent 
origin ;  they  do  not  go  back  further  than  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  when  the  famous  Dr.  Robert  Mor- 
rison, author  of  a  great  Chinese  Dictionary,  sent  by  the 
London  Missionary  Society,  arrived  at  Canton  in  1807. 
The  number  of  missionaries  is  now  very  great,  and  many 
of  them  are  American.  I  may  recall  among  them  the 
names  of  two  distinguished  sinologues :  Elijah  Coleman 
Bridgman,  of  Connecticut,  and  Samuel  Wells  Williams,  of 
New  York,  who  was  se\'eral  times  charge  d'affaires  of  the 
United  States  at  Pe-king. 

In  spite  of  the  zeal,  the  activity,  and  the  devotion  dis- 
played by  both  Catholic  and  Protestant  missionaries,  we 
cannot  say  that  their  success  in  China  has  been  considerable 
or  their  action  deep.  The  Chinaman  is  not  hostile  to  Chris- 
tianity; he  is  indifferent;  he  finds  in  the  moral  system  of  his 
great  sage,  Confucius,  the  precepts  which  guide  him  in 
private  and  public  life;  he  takes  in  the  doctrines  of  Buddha, 
the  practices  of  Taoism,  the  superstitions  of  Feng-shui,  all 
that  is  necessary  to  him  in  the  question  of  religion.  Chris- 
tianity is  still  for  the  Chinaman  a  foreign  religion,  the 
superiority  of  which  has  not  been  made  so  clear  to  his  eyes 
as  to  induce  him  to  adopt  it  as  a  matter  of  course;  and 
though  the  religion  of  Christ  met  with  almost  unrestricted 
success  among  the  pagan  nations  forming  the  old  Roman 
Empire,  or  amid  the  wild  tribes  of  modern  Africa,  Oceania, 
and  America,  it  has  entirely  failed  with  the  Far  Eastern 
peoples,  indifferent  or  atheist.  If  I  dared  say  what. I  think, 
I  should  add  that  the  destruction  of  Chinese  society  as  it 
exists  at  present  could  alone  secure  the  triumph  of  Chris- 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    131 

tianity,  and  the  literati  understand  this  so  well  that  they, 
and  not  the  people,  are  hostile  to  its  spread. 

Though  the  number  of  the  followers  of  Islam  in  China 
be  far  inferior  to  that  of  the  Buddhists,  the  disciples  of 
Mohammed  have  nevertheless  played  a  considerable  part  in 
the  Middle  Kingdom. 

The  Arabs  called  Ta-zi  were  known  to  the  Chinese,  who 
mention  them  in  the  annals  of  the  T'angDynasty  (618-907), 
through  Persia,  the  name  of  which  appears  for  the  first  time 
in  the  Chinese  annals  (461)  in  connection  with  an  embassy 
sent  to  the  court  of  the  Wei  sovereigns.  During  the  eighth 
century  the  Bagdad  Abbassides  and  their  celebrated  Khalif 
Harun-ar-Rashid  joined  with  the  Uigurs  and  the  Chinese 
against  the  Tibetans,  their  common  enemy.  A  fact  inter- 
esting to  note,  is  the  presence  of  Ta-zi  in  the  kingdom  of 
Nan-Chao,  a  part  of  the  actual  Yun-nan  Province,  as  early 
as  801. 

The  Arabs  built  at  Canton  a  large  mosque,  which  was 
burnt  down  in  758.  In  the  course  of  the  following  century, 
in  875,  the  Mohammedans  transferred  their  business  from 
Canton  to  the  Malay  Peninsula,  at  Kalah,  which  inherited 
the  commercial  importance  of  Ceylon  in  the  sixth  century. 
Western  visitors  at  the  court  of  the  Mongol  Khans  mention 
a  number  of  high  Mussulman  dignitaries.  We  shall  see  that 
in  the  eighteenth  century  K'ien-lung  annexed  to  his  empire 
the  T'ien-Shan,  part  of  the  share  of  Jagatai  in  the  inheri- 
tance of  his  father,  Chinguiz  Khan.  Without  going  into 
the  particulars  of  the  rebellions  which  devastated  Central 
Asia,  we  shall  recall  that  in  1864,  a  soldier  of  fortune, 
Yakub,  captured  Kashgar  and  the  other  towns  south  of  the 
T'ien-Shan,  thus  creating  a  Mohammedan  power  in  North- 
western China  between  the  possession  newly  acquired  by 
the  Russians  after  the  storming  of  Tashkant  (June  27, 
1865)    and   the   Anglo-Indian    Empire.     Far    some   time. 


132    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

Yakub  was  the  undisputed  and  redoubtable  sovereign  of  a 
real  empire,  with  Yarkand  as  a  capital.  England  dispatched 
to  Yakub  special  missions  with  Sir  Douglas  Forsyth  at  their 
head  in  1870  and  in  1873;  in  1872  the  Russian  staff-colonel 
Baron  Kaulbars,  signed  a  treaty  of  commerce  with  the 
jMohammedan  potentate.  Yakub's  rule  was  ephemeral  and 
ended  with  him  when  he  died  on  the  29th  of  May,  1877;  in 
fact,  the  Chinese  general  Tso  Tsung-tang  had  subdued  a 
great  part  of  his  territory,  the  conquest  of  which  he  com- 
pleted after  the  death  of  the  Ameer. 

Another  outburst  of  the  Mohammedans,  caused  by  a 
quarrel  between  miners  of  different  creeds  and  conflicting 
interests,  took  place  about  1855  in  Southwestern  China,  in 
the  Yun-nan  Province,  and  it  led  to  the  creation  of  a  sul- 
tanate at  Ta-li,  which  lasted  till  the  capture  of  this  strong- 
hold by  the  Chinese  Imperial  troops  on  the  15th  of  January, 
1873. 

China,  which  is  the  main  subject  treated  of  in  this  general 
view,  was  in  fact  isolated  only  in  the  ancient  times  of  her 
history,  when  her  territory,  watered  by  the  Yellow  River, 
hardly  extended  beyond  the  right  bank  of  the  Yang-tse 
Kiang.  From  the  fourteenth  century  the  land  route  to 
China  was  closed,  and  the  foreigners  who  arrived  by  sea  at 
the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  could  at  Canton  only  hold 
any  intercourse  with  the  Chinese,  who  got  their  scanty  in- 
formation about  distant  lands  from  the  Canton  merchants 
and  the  missionaries  submerged  in  the  enormous  mass  of  the 
empire.  The  Cossacks  who  came  from  the  north  in  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  added  little  or  rather 
nothing  to  this  knowledge.  It  seems  paradoxical,  but  it  is 
nevertheless  exact  to  say  that  China  was  opened  to  Western 
civilization  and  influence  by  the  British  gun.  In  the  Middle 
Ages,  China  had  the  benefit  of  some  extraneous  ideas 
through  Buddhism  imported  from  India  and  through  the 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    133 

Mongols  who  served  as  a  link  between  Europe  and  Asia. 
China  herself  broke  her  own  bounds;  like  the  Persian  and 
Arab  merchants  visiting  her  ports,  her  own  traders  pene- 
trated to  the  farthest  extremity  of  the  Persian  Gulf.  At 
different  times  she  held  Annam  in  bondage;  she  tried  to 
conquer  Burmah  and  Japan,  but  failed;  her  influence  was 
all-powerful  in  Korea,  and  she  carried  on  her  explorations 
to  the  Islands  of  Sunda,  which  soon  became  one  of  the  fav- 
orite spots  of  her  emigration. 

With  the  Chinese  Dynasty  of  the  Ming,  which  replaced 
in  1368  the  Mongol  rule  in  the  Middle  Kingdom,  China 
assumes  the  definite  form  under  which  she  is  known  hence- 
forward to  the  foreigner.  The  Manchu  Conquest  in  1644 
brings  a  fresh  element  into  the  country,  but  the  new-comers 
are  soon  absorbed ;  they  add  to  the  Chinese  E^npire  the  land 
from  which  they  come  and  which  constitutes  to-day  the 
northeast  region  of  the  Empire,  the  actual  theatre  of  the 
struggle  between  Russia  and  Japan. 

With  the  annexation  of  the  T'ien-Shan  by  the  Emperor 
K'ien-lung  in  1759  and  the  seizure  by  this  prince  of  the 
temporal  government  of  Tibet,  the  Chinese  Empire  reached 
the  boundaries  which  it  has  retained  until  recent  years.  It 
is  not  speaking  with  disparagment  or  injustice  to  say  that 
the  Emperors  K'ang-hi  and  K'ien-lung  in  the  seventeenth 
and  eighteenth  centuries  were  in  every  respect  equal  or  even 
superior  to  most  of  the  contemporary  princes.  It  is  hardly 
possible  to  recognize  as  the  heirs  of  these  great  men  sover- 
eigns like  Kia-K'ing,  Tao-Kwang,  and  especially  the  stupid 
and  cruel  Hien-Fung  (died  1861). 

With  the  exception  of  the  creation  of  a  Great  Council  and 
the  superposition  of  Manchu  dignitaries  upon  Chinese  func- 
tionaries, the  Chinese  administration  stands  unchanged,  and 
the  moral  precepts  of  Confucius  continue  to  guide  the  con- 
duct of  all  the  Chinese  from  the  lowest  of  the  people  up  to 


134    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

the  Son  of  Heaven.  The  era  of  inventions  is  closed,  the 
fine  literary  productions  of  the  T'ang  period,  and  the  great 
philosophical  \vorks  of  the  Sung  Dynasty  do  not  find  any 
equivalent  during  the  next  centuries.  China  did  not  see, 
and  will  not  see  anything;  her  glance  did  not  extend  beyond 
the  seas,  nor  even  beyond  her  Great  Wall;  she  shut  herself 
up,  and  living,  so  to  speak,  on  her  own  stock,  having  at  an 
early  hour  reached  a  high  state  of  civilization,  she  stopped 
in  her  development.  In  some  manner  she  became  ''crystal- 
lized," to  use  Stendhal's  expression,  and  during  this  opera- 
tion other  nations  have  grown,  have  surpassed  her,  have 
interfered  with  her  peaceful  existence,  thus  awakening  her 
in  her  sleep,  compelling  her  to  abandon  her  voluntary  isola- 
tion and  to  accept  a  promiscuity  which  is  particularly  dis- 
tasteful and  odious  to  her. 

The  decline  of  China  coincides  with  the  efforts  of  the 
Western  Powers  to  break  her  doors  open.  Until  the  middle 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
Catholic  missionaries  retained  as  savants  at  the  court  of 
Pe-king  or  hidden  in  the  provinces,  where  they  led  a  pre- 
carious existence,  foreigners  were  lodged  in  a  quarter  of 
the  single  port  of  Canton  without  the  right  of  moving 
freely  about  the  city ;  moreover,  they  could  only  stay  at  the 
place  the  time  strictly  necessary  to  the  settlement  of  their 
affairs,  that  is  to  say,  during  a  pretty  short  portion  of  the 
year;  afterwards  they  had  to  return  to  the  Portugese  Colony 
of  Macao,  where  lived  their  families,  who  were  not  allowed 
to  accompany  the  cargoes  to  the  Chinese  port.  Business 
was  not  conducted  freely  with  the  natives,  but  through  the 
medium  of  privileged  merchants,  called  hong  merchants, 
whose  monopoly  was  finally  abolished  by  the  fifth  article  of 
the  treaty  signed  at  Nanking  by  England  August  20,  1842. 
Wanton  vexations  were  inflicted  upon  foreigners;  it  was 
forbidden  to  the  natives  to  teach  their   language  to  any 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    135 

"Western  Devil"  ( Yang-kvvei-tse)  ;  the  lex  talionis,  man  for 
man,  was  applied  with  all  its  cruelty  and  injustice. 

This  state  of  things  lasted  till  the  Opium  War,  which 
gave  England  the  means  of  opening  China  more  widely  to 
the  foreign  trade  and  of  making  the  way  for  the  introduc- 
tion of  Western  ideas,  without  abating,  however,  the  arro- 
gant pretensions  of  the  mandarins. 

In  the  course  of  the  sixteenth  century  began  the  double 
march  toward  China,  by  the  north  and  the  south,  by  land 
and  by  sea,  which  brought  into  contact  the  nations  of  the 
Occident  and  those  of  the  Far  East.  Ermak's  Cossacks 
were  the  pioneers  of  the  northern  route,  Vasco  da  Gama's 
sailors  and  Albuquerque's  soldiers  were  the  pilots  and  the 
conquerors  of  the  southern  route. 

To  the  Portuguese  we  owe  the  discovery,  or  more  exactly 
the  reopening,  of  the  road  of  Asia  in  modern  times.  The 
cape  discovered  by  Bartholomew  Diaz  in  1485,  doubled  by 
Vasco  da  Gama  in  1497,  was  the  great  port  of  call  from 
Europe  to  Asia,  until  the  ancient  way  of  Egypt  was  re- 
sumed during  the  nineteenth  century.  Masters  of  the  In- 
dian Ocean,  the  capture  of  Malacca  in  1511,  their  first  voy- 
age to  Canton  in  1514,  a  wreck  in  1542  at  Tanegashima,  in 
the  Japanese  Archipelago,  gave  to  the  Portuguese  the  pos- 
session of  an  immense  empire  and  the  control  of  an  enor- 
mous trade  which  they  were  not  able  to  keep.  The  annexa- 
tion of  Portugal  to  Spain,  "The  Sixty  Years'  Captivity," 
under  Philip  the  Second,  was  as  harmful  to  the  first,  drawn 
by  its  conqueror  into  a  struggle  fatal  for  her  prosperity, 
as  was  to  the  Dutch  colonies  the  absorption  of  Holland  by 
Napoleon  I. 

The  Spaniards  settled  in  the  Philippine  Islands:  the 
Dutch,  with  the  enterprising  Cornelius  Houtman,  landed  in 
1596  at  Bantam,  created  the  short-lived  colony  of  Formosa, 
and  a  lasting  empire  in  the  Sunda  Islands,  where  in  1619 


136    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

they  laid  the  foundations  of  the  town  of  Batavia,  on  the 
ruins  of  the  old  native  port  of  Jacatra. 

However,  one  may  say  that  England  really  opened  East- 
ern Asia  to  foreign  influence,  at  least  by  sea,  from  the  day 
in  1634  when  the  gun  of  Captain  Weddell  thundered  for  the 
first  time  in  the  Canton  River.  It  was  with  the  accompani- 
ment of  British  powder,  that  during  two  centuries  the  coun- 
tries of  the  Far  East  carried  on  trade  with  the  Western 
merchants.  It  was  on  sea,  and  of  course  by  the  south,  that 
England  fought  for  the  supremacy  in  Asia. 

A  terrible  struggle  in  India  against  the  French,  where 
Clive  and  Hastings  got  the  benefit  of  the  labors  and  exer- 
tions of  Frangois  Martin,  Dumas,  Dupleix,  and  others,  three 
wars  against  the  Mahrats,  the  conquest  of  the  Punjab,  the 
crushing  of  the  great  rebellion  of  1858,  the  suppression  of 
the  Empire  of  the  Great  Mogul,  have  secured  to  Great 
Britain  the  possession  of  the  Indies,  threatened  only  as  of 
yore  by  the  northwestern  invaders.  Three  lucky  campaigns 
have  given  Burmah  to  England,  already  master  of  the 
greater  part  of  the  Malay  Peninsula. 

The  treaty  signed  by  Great  Britain  at  Nanking  in  August. 
1842,  broke  up  the  Chinese  barrier;  the  various  Powers 
followed  in  emulation  the  example  of  England ;  the  United 
States,  France,  Belgium,  Sweden  and  Norway,  by  turn 
signed  treaties  or  conventions  with  the  Son  of  Heaven.  At 
that  time  England  was  truly  without  a  rival  in  the  Far  East, 
but  was  not  far-sighted  enough;  the  pledge  she  took  at 
Hong  Kong,  important  as  it  was,  was  but  a  small  one  with 
regard  to  the  hopes  of  the  future.  England  gave  back  to 
the  Chinese  the  Chusan  Islands,  which  had  been  in  her 
hands,  as  the  French  returned  the  Pescadores  after  the  set- 
tlement of  the  Tonquin  question ;  of  course,  loyal  and  honest 
acts,  but  also  acts  of  improvident  politics. 

To-day  England  has  lost  the  unique  situation  she  held 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    137 

sixty  years  ago.  In  all  the  peoples  of  the  world,  she  has 
found  eager  competitors  anxious  to  share  with  her  the  prey 
of  which  for  a  long  time  she  was  alone  covetous,  alone  cap- 
able of  making  the  necessary  effort  to  grasp  it  firmly. 

France,  which  had  formerly  but  a  moral  interest  in  the 
Far  East,  that  of  the  Catholic  missions,  has  now  a  solid 
ground  of  action,  as  a  consequence  of  the  conquest  she  made 
of  the  oriental  part  of  Indo-China,  while  England  subdued 
the  western  coast  of  this  peninsula. 

The  colonization  or  the  conquest  by  European  nations 
tends  to  diminish,  tO'  restrict,  and  especially  to  modify  in 
Indo-China  the  effect  of  the  pacific  or  military  invasions  of 
Hindus  and  of  the  Sons  of  Han.  The  struggle  in  Indo- 
China  is  limited  to-day  to  two  champions ;  the  Chinese  and 
the  foreigner,  wherever  he  comes  from — England,  France, 
or  even  Japan.  The  native,  capable  of  slight  or  passive 
resistance  only,  will  have  in  the  scale  but  the  weight  of  his 
master,  w^ho  may  not  be  of  his  own  choice. 

However,  the  two  facts  dominating  the  political  history 
of  the  Far  East  during  the  last  fifty  years  are  the  spread 
of  the  Russian  powder  through  Asia  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
revolution  and  the  transformation  of  the  Japanese  Empire 
on  the  other. 

During  the  reign  of  Ivan  IV,  in  the  middle  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  to  the  east  of  the  Ural  Mountains  began  this 
tremendous  march  of  the  Russians  which  drove  them  be- 
yond the  sea,  since  the  authority  of  the  Tsar  was  formerly 
extended  to  this  side  of  the  Straits  of  Behring;  indeed,  it 
was  but  in  1867  that  the  Russian  possessions  in  America, 
Alaska,  were  acquired  by  the  United  States.  The  unifica- 
tion of  the  states  of  Great  Russia,  the  conquest  of  the  Tartar 
Kingdoms  of  Kazan  (1552)  and  of  Astrakhan  (1554), 
removed  the  boundaries  of  Russia  to  the  east ;  the  Russian 
advance  to  the  Baltic  had  been  stopped  by  the  victories  of 


138    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

Stephen   Bathory;   the    East  only   was   left   open   to   their 
enterprise. 

In  1558  a  certain  Gregori  Strogonov  obtained  from  the 
Tsar  the  cession  of  the  wild  islands  on  the  Kama  River. 
With  some  companions  he  settled  in  that  region,  created 
colonies,  and  some  of  the  hardy  fellows  went  as  far  as  the 
Ural  Mountains.  An  adventurous  Cossack  of  the  Don, 
Ermak  Timofeevitch,  whose  services  had  been  secured  by 
Strogonov,  crossed  the  Ural  Mountains  at  the  head  of  eight 
hundred  and  fifty  plucky  men,  and  advanced  as  far  as  the 
Irtysh  and  Ob  rivers,  on  the  way  subduing  the  Tartar 
princes.  Ermak  was  the  real  conqueror  of  Western 
Siberia,  but  if  he  had  the  luck  and  the  glory  of  adding  a 
new  kingdom  to  the  states  of  the  prince  who  has  been  sur- 
named  the  Terrible,  to  his  immediate  successors  was  due 
the  foundation  of  the  first  towai  in  the  territory  snatched 
from  the  Tartars,  for  Ermak  was  drowned  in  the  Irtysh  in 
1584,  and  Tobolsk  dates  only  from  1587.  The  effort  of 
the  Russians  was  then  directed  to  the  north  of  Siberia:  they 
did  not  meet  with  any  resistance  until  they  reached  the  Lena 
River;  in  1632  they  built  the  fort  of  Yakutsk  oii  the  banks 
of  this  river,  and  pushed  their  explorations  on  to  the  sea  of 
Okhotsk.  In  1636  tidings  of  the  Amoor  River  were  for 
the  first  time  heard  from  Cossacks  of  Tomsk,  who  had  made 
raids  to  the  south. 

Vasili  Poyarkov  (1643-46)  is  the  first  Russian  who  navi- 
gated the  Amoor  from  its  junction  with  the  Zeia  to  its 
mouth.  In  1643-51,  Khabarov  led  an  expedition  in  the 
course  of  which  he  built  on  the  banks  of  the  river  several 
forts,  Albasine  among  them.  In  1654,  Stepanov  for  the 
first  time  ascended  the  Sungari,  where  he  met  the  Chinese, 
who  compelled  him  to  trace  his  way  back  to  the  Amoor.  In 
spite  of  all  their  exertions,  after  two  sieges  of  Albasine  by 
the   Chinese,    the   Russians   were   obliged   on   the   27th   of 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    139 

August,  1689,  to  sign  at  Nerchinsk  a  treaty  by  which  they 
were  driven  out  of  the  basin  of  the  Amoor. 

The  Russians,  bound  to  carry  their  efforts  to  the  north, 
subdued  Kamchatka.  What  is  perhaps  most  remarkable  in 
the  history  of  the  relations  of  the  two  great  Asiatic  empires 
is  the  tenacity  of  the  Muscovite  grappling  with  the  cunning 
of  the  Chinese,  and  the  comparison  between  the  starting- 
point  of  these  relations,  the  Russia  of  Michael  and  Alexis 
and  the  China  of  K'ang-hi,  and  their  culminating-point  in 
1860,  when  these  very  nations  shall  have  passed,  one 
through  the  iron  hands  of  Peter  the  Great  and  become  the 
Russia  of  Alexander  II,  and  the  other  under  the  backward 
government  of  Kia-K'ing  and  Tao-kwang  and  become  the 
China  of  their  feeble  successor  Hien-Fung.  Only  on  the 
18th  of  May,  1854,  did  the  Governor-General  Muraviev 
navigate  again  the  waters  of  the  Amoor  River;  on  the  16th 
of  May,  1858,  he  signed  at  Aigun  a  treaty  which  made  the 
Amoor  until  its  junction  with  the  Usuri  the  boundary  be- 
tween the  Russian  and  Chinese  Empires,  the  territory  be- 
tween the  Usuri  and  the  sea  remaining  in  the  joint  posses- 
sion of  the  two  Powers,  but  after  the  Pe-king  Convention 
(2-14  November,  1860)  this  land  was  abandoned  to  Russia 
and  the  Usuri  became  the  boundary.  In  the  meantime, 
the  treaty  signed  at  T'ien-tsin  by  Admiral  Euthymus 
Putiatin  (1-13  June,  1858)  secured  for  Russia  all  the 
advantages  gained  by  France  and  England  after  the  occu- 
pation of  Canton  and  the  capture  of  the  Taku  forts. 

The  second  Russian  move  had  Central  Asia  as  its  aim ; 
it  was  the  result  of  the  foundation  of  the  town  of  Oren- 
burg, the  exploration  of  the  Syr-Daria  by  Batiakov,  the 
building  of  Kazalinsk  (1848)  near  the  mouth  of  this  river; 
the  unsuccessful  effort  of  General  Perovsky  (1839)  turned 
the  enterprise  of  the  Russians  to  the  Khanate  of  Khokand ; 
the  storming  of  Tashkend  by  Colonel  Chernaiev  on  the  27th 


140    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

of  June,  18G5,  was  the  crowning  point  of  the  conquest  of 
Turkestan  by  the  Russians,  The  road  to  the  T'ien-Shan 
had  already  been  opened  to  the  Russians  by  the  treaty  signed 
at  Kulja  (July  25-August  8,  1851)  by  Colonel  Kovalevsky, 
which,  however,  was  known  only  ten  years  later  (28  Feb- 
ruary-11  March  1861). 

While  Yakub  Bey  had  founded,  as  already  seen,  a  Mo- 
hammedan Empire  in  the  T'ien-Shan  Nan  Lu,  the  Russians 
took  possession  of  the  Hi  Territory  on  the  4th  of  July,  1871. 
The  retrocession  of  this  territory  to  China  after  the  death 
of  the  Attalik  Ghazi  was  the  cause  of  long  and  difficult  ne- 
gotiations between  Russia  and  China,  which  ended  with  the 
treaties  of  Livadia  (October,  1879)  and  of  St.  Petersburg 
(February  12-24,  1881).  Russia  restored  the  lands  which 
she  detained  illegitimately,  keeping,  however,  a  small  por- 
tion, not  the  least  valuable  of  the  lot. 

The  third  Russian  move  was  aimed  at  the  countries  be- 
yond the  Caspian  Sea,  and  was  the  result  of  the  conquest  of 
the  Crimea  by  Potemkin  in  the  name  of  the  great  Catherine, 
and  of  the  treaty  of  Kutschuk  Quainardji  (1774),  which 
gave  to  the  Russians  the  free  navigation  of  the  Black  Sea. 
Under  the  reign  of  Nicholas  I,  Putiatin  established  a  per- 
manent maritime  station  on  the  Island  of  Akurade  in  the 
Gulf  of  Astrabad,  and  a  line  of  ships  on  the  Caspian  Sea, 
securing  from  the  Persian  Government  facilities  for  Russian 
fishermen  and  traders  on  the  southern  coast  of  that  sea. 

At  last,  in  1860,  Russia  took  a  definite  position  on  the 
eastern  coast  of  the  Caspian  Sea  in  settling  at  Krasnovodsk. 
Later  on  the  break-up  of  the  Turkish  barrier  of  Geok-tepe 
by  Skobelev,  the  occupation  of  the  Oasis  of  Merv  by  Alik- 
hanov,  the  capture  of  Samarkand,  made  of  the  Transcaspian 
country  a  Russian  possession,  rendered  Russian  influence 
paramount  in  the  north  of  Persia,  and  threatened  Herat  and 
the  route  of  Indian.     The  railway  which  the  ingenuity  and 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    141 

tenacity  of  Annenkov  threw  across  the  burning  desert, 
united  the  Caspian  Sea  to  Bokhara  and  Samarkand,  cross- 
ing the  Oxus  at  Charjui.  The  continuation  of  this  railway 
from  Samarkand  to  Tashkend  and  the  Siberian  line  was  to 
place  the  whole  of  Asia  beyond  the  Ural  Mountains  and 
the  Caspian  Sea  in  the  hands  of  the  Russians. 

It  seems  as  if  nothing  could  put  a  stop  to  this  expansion ; 
on  the  contrary,  the  bold  and  rapid  construction  of  a  railway 
across  the  frozen  steppes  of  Siberia  was  to  unite  Russia 
directly  with  the  Far  East  by  an  unbroken  chain ;  the  ports 
of  Manchuria  and  Korea,  watered  by  the  seas  of  China  and 
Japan,  being  considered  the  termini  of  the  long  line. 

Work  on  the  western  part  of  the  Siberian  Railway  began 
on  July  7,  1892.  Its  extension  beyond  the  Baikal  Lake  was 
to  take  it  on  the  one  hand  to  Vladivostock  at  the  eastern 
extremity  of  the  Russian  possessions  in  Asia,  and  on  the 
other  to  Port  Arthur  in  the  south  of  the  Liao-tung  Penin- 
sula. It  was  fair  to  think  that  the  point  where  the  two  lines 
met,  in  the  very  heart  of  Manchuria,  should  become  a  most 
important  centre  of  industry  and  population;  indeed,  this 
has  been  realized,  and  in  a  few  years,  in  the  place  of  a  barren 
spot,  the  considerable  town  of  Kharbin  (Harbin)  has  been 
built  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  so  to  speak. 

Russia  weighs  with  its  enormous  mass  on  the  Asiatic 
Continent  like  a  gigantic  polyp,  whose  head  and  body  press 
on  Siberia  and  Central  Asia,  with  tentacles  stretching 
toward  Korea,  Manchuria,  Mongolia,  Tibet,  Afghanistan. 
Persia,  Asia  Minor,  ready  to  close  them  on  the  prey  which 
she  encircles,  and  which  is  disputed  to  her  by  other  nations 
anxious  to  take  their  share  of  the  plunder,  thus  creating 
a  permanent  state  of  uneasiness  throughout  the  Continent. 

While  Russia  was  making  this  enormous  extension  in  the 
northwest  of  Asia,  Japan  was  pursuing  the  series  of  reforms 
which  were  to  secure  for  her  a  very  special  position  in  the 


142    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

concert  of  the  nations  of  the  world.  Previous  to  the  revo- 
hition  of  ISGS,  which  ahered  entirely  the  state  of  things  in 
Japan,  a  real  duality  in  the  government  existed  in  this 
country;  while  the  Tenno,  or  Mikado,  the  only  Emperor, 
reigned  nominally  at  Kiota,  the  power  was  held  in  fact  by 
the  Shogun,  a  sort  of  Mayor  of  the  Palace,  residing  at 
Yedo.  From  lyeyas,  at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  who  gave  to  feodality  the  definitive  constitution 
which  lasted  to  our  days,  the  power  remained  in  his  house, 
that  of  Tokugawa.  The  foreigners  who  landed  in  Japan 
in  the  sixteenth  and  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury— Portuguese  and  English — were  expelled  in  1G37,  and 
by  the  end  of  1639  the  Dutch  and  the  Chinese  were  the  only 
outsiders  allowed  to  live  on  the  islet  of  Deshima,  in  the  Bay 
of  Nagasaki,  in  order  to  supply  the  Japanese  with  the  goods 
they  required. 

This  state  of  things,  notwithstanding  the  attempts  vainly 
made  by  Great  Britain  and  Russia  during  the  first  years  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  was  to  last  until  the  arrival  of  the 
American  Commodore  Matthew  Calbraith  Perry,  who  in 
July,  1853,  anchored  at  Uraga  at  the  entrance  of  the  Bay  of 
Yedo,  and  who  signed  on  March  31,  1854,  a  Kanagawa,  the 
first  treaty  concluded  between  Japan  and  a  foreign  power. 

Was  the  revolution  of  1868  for  Japan  but  one  of  the 
numerous  crises  which  troubled  its  already  long  and  not  too 
serene  existence  ?  Was  it  a  mere  accident  for  that  country, 
progressing  by  jumps  and  bounds  and  not  by  evolution? 
or  was  it  the  starting-point  of  a  civilization  copied  from 
that  of  Europe?  Has  she  covered  only  the  old  culture  of 
Yamato  with  a  superficial  varnish?  Has  she  completely 
destroyed  it  to  replace  it  by  a  new  one  ?  I  greatly  doubt  it, 
or  rather  I  do  not  believe  it,  as  it  cannot  be  that  in  some  fifty 
years  a  radical  transformation  can  reach  the  deeper  layers 
of  the  population.     The  Japanese  obey  two  motives  in  their 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    143 

warlike  undertakings;  one  is  dictated  by  a  tradition  of  war, 
by  an  unsurpassed  bravery  of  which  they  have  given  un- 
deniable proofs  of  centuries;  the  other  by  reasons  of  a 
purely  economic  order.  Japan  is  at  heart  a  warlike  nation ; 
in  every  man  of  Nippon,  the  soul  of  a  saiiuirai  is  asleep. 
No,  a  people  cannot  be  modified  in  a  few  years. 

Japan  has  behind  her  a  past  of  struggles,  heroism,  and 
art,  with  very  little  original  literature.  Endowed  with  the 
genius  of  application  more  than  with  that  of  invention,  with 
no  great  commercial  aptitude,  a  hero  or  a  pirate  according 
to  circumstances,  full  of  imprczm,  as  his  tradition  borrowed 
from  strangers  does  not  trace  to  him  a  firm  line  of  conduct, 
the  Japanese  lives  on  reminiscences  and  is,  above  all,  an 
imitator;  he  is  not  gifted  with  imagination;  an  artist  and  a 
warrior,  he  is  not  a  philosopher.  Does  he  give  us  now 
more  than  the  appearance  of  a  Western  civilization?  I 
hope  so  for  the  sake  of  Japan  herself,  as,  if  it  were  other- 
wise, we  should  have  but  a  fragile  edifice  erected  by  a  super- 
ficial as  well  as  a  versatile  people.  What  an  interesting 
and  curious  sight  it  offers  to  the  gaze  of  the  observer ! 

In  the  midst  of  the  peoples  which  from  the  West  and  the 
East  rush  to  the  assault  of  the  Middle  Kingdom,  Japan 
stands  as  a  young  and  vigorous  power  which,  in  1868,  by 
a  revolution  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of  mankind, 
transformed  herself  from  a  nation  most  hostile  to  foreign 
intrusion  to  one  of  the  most  progressive  of  the  globe.  We 
may  seek  in  great  part  the  solution  of  the  Asiatic  problem 
in  the  future  of  Japan,  which  acts  a  part  in  no  way  inferior 
to  that  of  the  Westerners,  and  which  finds  itself  to  be  the 
stumbling-block  to  the  ambitious  designs  of  the  foreign 
poweis.  Will  Japan  be  at  the  head  of  the  invaders  come 
from  near  and  far,  as  at  Pe-king  in  1900  ?  Will  she  be,  on 
the  contrary,  having  galvanized  the  old  man,  the  champion 
of  the  Asiatic  World  to  repel  the  common  enemy  ? 


144    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

It  is  fair  to  believe,  in  reviewing  the  history  of  the  past 
and  in  studying  the  various  aspects  of  present  politics,  that 
Japan  would  prefer  the  second  of  these  parts,  more  in  ac- 
cordance with  her  traditions  and  her  aspirations. 

It  is  evident  that  two  nations  in  full  progress,  operating 
in  the  same  field  of  action,  would  fatally  meet  some  day. 
If  Russia  needs  a  port  free  from  ice  in  the  Eastern  Sea, 
Japan  has  a  no  less  imperious  necessity  of  finding  room  for 
its  population  in  excess.  From  five  thousand  four  hundred 
and  forty-three  in  1880,  the  number  of  the  Japanese  living 
out  of  their  country  increased  in  1902  to  one  hundred  and 
thirty-nine  thousand  five  hundred  fifty-three,  scattered 
chiefly  between  Korea,  Canada,  the  United  States,  the 
Hawaiian  Islands,  etc. 

The  Treaty  of  Shimonoseki  (April  27,  1895),  signed 
after  a  glorious  war  with  China,  had  given  to  Japan  the 
southern  portion  of  Manchuria,  including  Port  Arthur. 
The  triumph  of  the  Emperor  of  the  Rising  Sun  made  of  an 
Asiatic  potentate  like  the  Mikado  a  sovereign  whose  voice 
was  heard  in  the  whole  of  the  world ;  from  a  local  power, 
Japan  took  rank  among  the  great  powers  of  the  globe.  In 
the  conquest  of  Manchuria,  Germany,  France,  and  Russia 
perceived  a  danger  to  European  influence  in  the  Far  East, 
and  by  a  convention  on  November  8,  1895,  obtained  the 
retrocession  of  Liao-tung  by  Japan  to  China.  It  was  no 
doubt  a  severe  wound  to  the  amour  propre  of  the  victor. 

In  the  mean  time  Russia  continued  to  increase  her  means 
of  action  and  to  strengthen  her  position  in  the  Far  East 
by  the  creation  at  the  end  of  1895  of  the  Russo-Chinese 
Bank,  by  conventions  regarding  the  Manchurian  Railway, 
and  by  the  signature  in  1896  at  St.  Petersburg  by  the 
Viceroy  Li  Hung-chang  of  a  treaty  still  secret. 

After  the  masscre  of  two  of  her  missionaries,  Germany 
having  taken  possession  of  Kiao-chow  on  November   14, 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    145 

1897,  Russia  shortly  after  obtained  the  cession  by  lease  o£ 
Port  Arthur  (December,  1897).  England,  in  gaining  a  set- 
tlement at  W'ei-Hai-Wei  and  France  at  Kwang-chovv-Wan, 
seemed  to  begin  the  partition  of  the  Chinese  Empire.  At 
one  moment  the  old  Manchu  world  seemed  to  awaken  to  the 
danger;  at  one  moment  the  Emperor  Kwang-siu  had  no 
doubt  the  real  instinct  of  the  situation.  He  had  shown 
dignity  and  bravery  when  he  refused  to  fly  to  the  west,  as 
was  suggested  to  him  by  his  timorous  ministers  at  the  time 
the  Japanese  threatened  his  capital  in  1895. 

The  demands  of  the  foreigners  who  appeared  to  seek  the 
dismemberment  of  the  Empire  and  threatened  to  make  a 
new  Poland  of  China,  frightened  the  Manchu  monarch, 
who  felt  strongly — in  so  far  as  his  weakened  health  and  a 
superior  will  allowed — the  wish  to  transform  his  country. 
It  was  but  a  flash  of  lightning  in  a  darkened  horizon.  In 
order  to  succeed,  it  would  have  been  necessary  for  Kwang- 
siu  to  have  at  his  command,  with  his  handful  of  bold  but 
busy-body  reformers,  a  solid  army,  capable  of  preventing 
a  reaction.  But  this  army  was  lacking  to  the  Chinese  Em- 
peror, who  made  the  generous  but  abortive  attempt  to  in- 
troduce reforms  in  which  he  lost  at  once  the  power  and 
the  appearance  of  energy  which  he  had  for  a  brief  period 
displayed. 

On  June  10,  1898,  Kwang-siu  began  the  series  of  re- 
forms, the  ephemeral  course  of  which  was  stopped  on  Sep- 
tember 30  of  the  same  year  by  the  Empress  Dowager,  the 
reactionary  party,  with  her,  retaking  the  power.  What 
followed,  the  rebellion  of  the  Boxers;  the  siege  of  the 
foreign  Legations  at  Pe-king,  in  1900,  is  fresh  in  the  mem- 
ory of  all.  It  is  but  just  to  note,  as  the  Japanese  Prime 
Minister,  Count  Katsura,  remarked  quite  recently,  that 
during  all  these  events  Japan  has  filled  her  duty  as  a  civilized 
nation  by  the  side  of  the  Western  Powers. 


146    HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  ROME  AND  ASIA 

The  causes  of  the  present  gigantic  struggle  appear  forc- 
ibly to  every  one's  eyes,  but  to  say  the  least,  the  place  to  dis- 
cuss them  is  not  in  a  scientific  congress;  however,  it  is  not 
forbidden  to  foresee  some  of  its  results  and  the  effects  these 
may  have  on  the  general  politics  of  the  universe.  If  Japan 
is  in  our  days  the  only  nation  capable  of  waging  a  war  for 
the  sake  of  heroism,  a  rare  virtue  in  our  matter-of-fact 
societies,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  in  the  present  struggle 
economic  interests  were  the  main  motives ;  as  we  have  said 
already,  Japan  has  neither  the  room  nor  the  food  with  which 
to  supply  the  surplus  of  her  population ;  she  is  compelled  to 
look  beyond  her  own  boundaries  for  the  necessaries  of  com- 
mon life.  Internal  motives  also  dictate  pardy  her  conduct. 
The  extension  of  nations  is  in  nearly  every  case  directed 
according  to  natural  though  at  times  cruel  laws ;  often  these 
are  in  contradiction  to  the  laws  of  civilization;  so  we  see, 
in  spite  of  treaties,  in  spite  of  associations  for  peace,  in 
spite  of  leagues  for  promoting  fraternity  between  nations, 
in  spite  of  arbitration  committees  or  tribunals,  war  breaks 
out  suddenly,  irresistibly,  when  vital  economic  interests  are 
at  stake.  Nations  go  back  to  the  state  of  primitive  man, 
and  the  right  of  the  stronger  becomes  the  rule. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  if  Japan  needs  an  extension 
of  territory  for  her  excess  population,  she  has  the  need 
scarcely  less  important  of  keeping  up  her  communication 
witn  the  various  nations  among  which  she  desires  to  hold 
her  rank.  The  construction  of  the  Siberian  Railway,  in 
shortening  the  time  of  the  journey  from  Europe  to  Asia,  has 
also  practically  shortened  the  distances.  Until  the  problem- 
atic project  of  building  a  railway  to  unite  the  Mediterranean 
Sea  to  the  Far  East  by  the  way  of  Persia  and  India  shall  be 
carried  out,  and  whatever  be  the  result  of  the  present  war, 
Russia  will  hold  the  highway  of  intercommunication  be- 
tween Europe  and  Asia;  less  than  any  other  nation  can 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    147 

Japan  afford  to  give  up  the  use  of  this  route,  and  being  tlius 
dependent  upon  the  Russians  cannot  keep  in  a  state  of  per- 
petual hostility  with  them. 

During  a  long  time,  we  had  in  Europe  the  bad  habit  of 
studying  separately  the  various  political  problems  and  of 
seeing  only  particular  cases  in  what  were  really  but  the 
secondary  effects  from  general  causes.  Nowadays,  there 
is  not  a  single  problem  of  foreign  politics  which  can  be 
treated  with  indifference.  Whatever  be  the  part  of  the 
globe  where  the  gun  thunders,  the  repercussion  of  it  is  felt 
in  the  capitals  of  the  whole  world ;  special  questions  be- 
come questions  of  general  interest,  and  the  effort  of  diplo- 
macy to  avoid  a  universal  conflagration  tends  to  circum- 
scribe the  struggle  between  those  chiefly  concerned ;  the 
task  is  rendered  the  more  arduous  in  that  the  multiple 
treaties  or  alliances  between  nations  extend  the  limits  of  the 
debates  and  thus  increase  the  chances  of  a  general  conflict. 

Europe  used  to  consider  Asia,  except  in  her  western  part, 
as  a  domain  where  events  rolled  on  without  any  distant 
effect  and  having  therefore  but  an  interest  of  mere  curiosity. 
China,  Bossuet  could  pass  over  in  silence,  that  is  to  say 
the  third  of  the  total  population  of  the  globe,  in  his  Discours 
sur  I'Histoire  Universelle,  a  very  poor  work  by  the  bye, 
admired  only  by  those  who  have  not  read  it.  However, 
during  the  course  of  the  fifth  century  the  invasion  of  the 
barbarians,  and  in  the  thirteenth  the  raids  of  the  jMongols, 
should  have  opened  the  eyes  of  the  most  blind  of  observers. 
And  these  considerable  events  were  not  the  result  of  for- 
tuitous causes,  but  the  natural  consequence  of  important 
events  which  had  happened  in  the  interior  of  Asia,  while  our 
ancestors  had  not  the  faintest  suspicion  of  them. 

Moreover,  the  great  navigators  of  the  sixteenth  century 
unraveled  the  mystery  which  shrouded  the  remote  coun- 
tries and  helped  to  make  clear  the  interest  Europe  had  in 


148    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

knowing-  them  better,  and  let  us  say,  with  frank  cynicism,  in 
speculating  upon  them. 

The  first  attempts  to  create  factories,  then  the  conquests 
at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  and  during  the  eighteenth  cen- 
turies, showed  that  Europe  had  abandoned  her  majestic  in- 
difference, and  was  feeHng  the  necessity  of  a  pohcy  which 
reached  beyond  the  horizon  bounded  by  her  small  and 
greedy  continent. 

At  the  close  of  the  wars  of  the  First  Empire,  as  soon  as 
peace  is  signed,  we  see  the  Western  nations  resume  the 
routes  to  Asia,  for  a  short  period  neglected.  England  in 
India  and  China,  the  Dutch  in  the  Spice  Islands,  France  in 
Indo-China,  later  on  the  Russians  in  Central  Asia,  then  in 
the  basin  of  the  Amoor  River,  all  rush  to  the  conquest  of 
new  territories;  appetites  are  sharpened,  rivalries  created; 
means  of  more  rapid  locomotion  shorten  distances;  a  new 
nation,  Japan,  is  born  to  civilization,  or  to  what  it  pleases 
us  to  call  civilization ;  and  Central  and  Eastern  Asia,  being 
no  more  isolated,  are  dragged  into  the  inharmonious  concert 
of  universal  politics. 

The  Chinese  problem,  simple  in  1842,  when  England 
signed  the  treaty  of  Nanking,  became  more  complicated 
from  year  to  year  by  the  introduction  of  fresh  and  powerful 
interests,  following  in  this  the  ordinary  laws  of  politics. 
The  arrival  of  the  Russians  by  the  north,  the  transformation 
of  Japan  to  a  modernized  empire,  the  occupation  of  Indo- 
China  by  France  and  England,  the  taking  possession  of  two 
Oceanic  archipelagoes  by  the  United  States,  the  newly  born 
colonial  ambitions  of  Germany,  new  means  of  transport  with 
a  rapidity  which  could  not  be  foreseen  half  a  century  ago, 
at  last  the  magnificent  prey  at  stake,  made  the  problem,  so 
simple  at  first,  one  of  increasing  complexity. 

The  Chinese  question,  which  is  but  one  of  the  aspects  of 
the  foreign  politics  of  some  nations,  such  as  France,  the 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    149 

United  States,  and  even  England,  is  vital  for  Japan,  to  a 
lesser  degree  for  Russia,  which  by  a  check  will  only  be  de- 
layed in  her  designs  for  a  more  or  less  protracted  period. 
Political  problems  are  interwoven  one  with  another;  Far 
Eastern  problems  are  connected  with  Oceanic  problems,  and 
among  the  Powers  who  are  to  play  a  part  in  the  Pacific,  we 
must  reckon  the  young  and  active  British  Colony,  the  Com- 
monwealth of  Australia,  which  is  beginning  its  international 
life  and  will  one  day  be  called  upon  for  some  considerable 
deeds.  In  this  rapid  survey  I  can  make  but  a  passing  allu- 
sion to  the  certain  effect  which  the  accomplishment  of  the 
great  work  of  cutting  a  canal  across  the  Isthmus  of  Panama 
will  bring  into  the  relations  of  the  whole  world. 

In  fifty  years  the  alterations  in  the  ways  of  intercommuni- 
cation have  completely  changed  not  only  the  politics  of  Asia 
but  also  of  the  rest  of  the  world.  China,  which,  in  1842, 
had  to  stand  but  against  Great  Britain,  in  1858  had  to 
reckon,  besides  this  Power,  with  France,  the  United  States, 
and  Russia.  The  most  audacious  people  might  hesitate  to 
undertake  remote  expeditions  involving  a  journey  of  several 
months  by  the  Cape  Route;  the  way  of  Siberia,  taken  again 
by  the  Russians  led  by  Muraviev  (1856),  was  long  and 
difficult;  the  opening  of  the  Suez  Canal  (1860),  coinciding 
with  improvements  to  the  steam-engine,  permitted  the  estab- 
lishment of  more  direct  and  frequent  relations  between  the 
peoples  of  the  West  and  those  of  the  Far  East ;  finally  the 
completion  of  the  Siberian  Railway  during  recent  years, 
placing  Pe-king  within  three  weeks  from  Paris  and  London, 
could  not  longer  allow  any  European  country  to  remain  in- 
different to  the  fate  of  Eastern  Asia.  We  see  just  the  re- 
verse of  what  happened  in  the  course  of  the  fifth  and  thir- 
teenth centuries  when  we  witnessed  the  movement,  the  de- 
layed ebb  tide  of  a  wave  rolled  from  the  depths  of  Asia, 
which  will  resume  its  old  course  in  the  near  future  if  we  may 
believe  in  the  predictions  of  ominous  prophets. 


150    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

The  laws  which  regulate  the  existence  of  peoples  are  simi- 
lar to  those  which  govern  the  lives  of  individuals.  Man  is 
born,  lives,  dies;  nations  have  their  periods  of  growth, 
climax,  transformation,  decline,  and  disappearance;  this 
disappearance  is  not  nothingness,  which  is  meaningless;  it 
is  no  more  total  in  a  nation  than  in  the  individual,  as,  ac- 
cording to  Lavoisier's  celebrated  formula,  "In  nature  noth- 
ing is  created,  nothing  is  lost" ;  the  scattered  elements  go 
toward  the  constitution  of  new  nationalities. 

The  adult  age  of  a  nation,  that  is  to  say  the  highest  pitch 
it  has  reached,  is  the  period  when  it  has  completed  its  com- 
plete unity  for  which  it  struggled  during  the  time  of  its 
growth.  This  period  of  highest  prosperity  can  last  a 
shorter  or  longer  lapse  of  time,  but  all  bodies  which  carry  in 
themselves  the  germs  of  their  development  contain  also  the 
elements  of  their  decay,  which  appear  sooner  or  later  ac- 
cordmg  to  circumstances. 

China  has  known  brilliant  periods  in  her  history,  such  as 
that  of  the  T'ang  Dynasty  from  the  seventh  to  the  ninth 
centuries,  a  time  which  the  Chinese  people  still  remember 
gratefully;  such  as  that  of  the  Mongol  supremacy  in  the 
thirteenth  century,  when  the  power  of  the  Great  Khans  ex- 
tended from  the  Chinese  Sea  to  the  right  banks  of  the 
Volga. 

China  has  even  known  a  period  of  splendor  under  the  first 
sovereigns  of  the  present  Manchu  Dynasty,  the  great  em- 
perors, K'ang-hi  and  K'ien-lung;  from  the  River  of  the 
Black  Dragon  to  Indo-China,  from  the  Oriental  Sea  to  the 
Celestial  Mountains  and  the  mysterious  capital  of  the  Dalai- 
lama,  the  name  of  the  Son  of  Heaven  was  feared  and  re- 
spected ;  then  shone  upon  the  Flowery  Kingdom  an  incom- 
parable eclat  ignored  by  the  contemporary  Westerners,  simi- 
lar in  this  respect  to  the  Chinese  of  to-day  who  do  not  know 
the  real  force  of  occidental  nations. 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    151 

Immobility,  as  is  the  case  with  Cliina,  when  all  the  others 
are  progressing,  is  not  stability;  it  is  retrogression;  rivals 
and  competitors  are  advancing  without  any  rest.  Woe  to- 
day on  the  people  who  in  the  scramble  of  nations  tries  to 
stop;  it  is  drawn  forcibly  along,  uprooted  like  the  proud 
tree  caried  in  its  mad  race  by  the  tumultous  Hood. 

Has  the  decline  of  China,  which  began  with  the  nineteenth 
century,  and  had  increased  from  reign  to  reign,  reached 
now  the  last  period  of  the  crisis?  I  believe  it;  but  we  are 
witnessing  an  evolution,  not  a  disappearance.  In  fact,  only 
the  system  of  government  and  those  who  administer  it  are 
worn  out  and  corrupt  and  have  served  their  purpose.  The 
Chinaman  has  always  preserved  his  sterling  qualities;  hon- 
esty, sobriety,  inclination  to  work,  love  of  his  family,  attach- 
ment to  his  home,  which  are  his  characteristic  traits,  have 
given  him  vitality,  increased  his  longevity,  and  constituted 
his  real  strength.  The  Chinese  absorb  their  conqucrer,  who 
disappears  in  the  strong  individuality  of  the  vanquished,  as 
a  stream,  less  powerful  in  appearance,  often  captures  the 
neighboring  watercourse,  more  important  but  ill-protected 
against  an  enemy  of  whose  existence  it  is  unaware.  The 
warlike  Mongol  of  the  Middle  Ages  has  become  a  peaceful 
shepherd  of  flocks,  and  the  fierce  Manchu  invader  of  the 
seventeenth  century  is  now  but  one  of  the  innumerable  func- 
tionaries who  crowd  the  administrative  hierarchy  of  the 
Celestial  Empire.  The  evolution  of  China  has  hardly  com- 
menced as  yet;  a  few  isolated  reformers  can  have  no  real 
influence  upon  so  vast  an  empire.  Railroads  will  be  the 
conqueror  of  China ;  the  steam-engine  will  carry  through  the 
whole  empire  ideas — not  French,  English,  German,  nay,  nor 
Japanese — but  new  general  ideas  which  will  give  to  the 
Chinese  a  characteristic  individuality. 

After  innovation  will  this  great  body  remain  homo- 
genous ? 


152    HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

Homogeneity  exists  in  China  by  virtue  of  the  centraliza- 
tion of  the  administration  and  the  common  origin  of  the 
mandarins,  but  the  points  of  view  of  the  country  and  the 
customs  of  the  races  which  inhabit  it  are  exceedingly  varied ; 
its  different  parts  are  merely  placed  in  juxtaposition;  they 
are  not  blended  into  one  uniform  mass;  they  are  only  united 
by  the  artificial  tie  of  government.  Strip  the  Chinese  of  the 
queue  which  adorns  the  back  of  his  head  and  suppress  the 
shaving  of  his  skull,  made  compulsory  by  the  victorious 
Tartar,  and  one  will  see  the  most  varied  people  throughout 
the  Empire.  The  Chinese  of  Canton  and  the  Chinese  of 
Pe-king  vary  almost  more  one  from  the  other  than  the 
English  and  the  French;  the  Lolo  of  Se-tch'uan  is  as  un- 
like the  Chinaman  as  a  Volga  Kalmuk  is  unlike  a  Baltic 
German;  the  rough  mountains  of  Yun-nan  have  nothing 
of  the  pleasing  appearance  of  the  hills  of  Che-Kiang;  the 
plain  of  China,  practically  the  valley  of  the  Imperial  Canal, 
does  not  recall  in  any  manner  the  uneven  country  of  the 
Upper  Yang-tse. 

What  will  this  evolution  be,  rendered  compulsory  by  the 
fall  of  an  obsolete  and  rotten  administration,  hastened  by 
the  construction  of  railways,  and  an  obligatory  contact  with 
peoples  differing  in  their  civilization,  in  their  appearance,  in 
their  aspirations  ?     No  one  can  say. 

There  is  no  place  in  China  for  the  immigration  of  foreign- 
ers who  would  not  certainly  seek  their  livelihood  in  the 
sterile  parts  of  the  Empire  devastated  by  famine ;  but  privi- 
leged or  rather  favored  by  chance,  merchants,  engineers, 
soldiers  will  be  able  to  subsist  as  in  the  past.  Will  they 
exercise  some  of  the  influence  hitherto  refused  to  the  foreign 
element?  I  think  so,  thanks  to  the  economic  revolution 
worked  by  railways,  which  cannot  fail  to  be  followed  by  a 
social  revolution.  However  democratic  the  system  of 
Chinese  adrninistration  may  be, — an  administration  all  the 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    153 

degrees  of  which  are  accessible  to  the  most  deserving  or  the 
most  intriguing, — the  Chinese  dignitaries  are  nevertheless 
a  backward  caste  which  prevent  all  progress.  But  if  this 
state  of  things  has  lasted  in  China  during  centuries,  if  the 
narrow  and  abusive  interpretation  of  the  precepts  of  Con- 
fucius has  postponed  the  introduction  of  reforms,  it  is  only 
because  the  means  of  intercommunication  were  too  slow  and 
too  rare  between  the  various  parts  of  this  immense  Empire. 
That  great  events  could  take  place  in  certain  regions  without 
other  provinces  having  the  least  knowledge  of  them;  that 
the  very  existence  of  the  Empire  could  have  been  threatened 
as  it  was  in  1858  and  1860,  without  the  bulk  of  the  nation 
having  the  least  inkling  of  the  danger,  will  surprise  only 
those  who  are  ignorant  of  China.  Things  will  be  changed 
when  a  net  of  rapid  highroads  shall  cross  the  eighteen  prov- 
inces, and  bring  them  into  direct  relation  with  the  countries 
where  the  outer  barbarians  have  settled.  The  management 
of  affairs  will  fall  into  the  hands  of  those  who,  more  clear- 
sighted than  their  elders,  shall  have  foreseen  the  new  state 
of  things;  the  Star  of  Confucius  will  vanish  in  the  steam 
of  the  locomotive,  and  fade  in  the  light  of  the  electric  spark. 

Whether  China  will  remain  a  territorial  unit,  which  I 
do  not  believe,  the  economic  interests  of  the  north  and  the 
south,  of  the  east  and  of  the  west  being  too  divergent; 
whether  she  will  keep  her  autonomy,  or  be  dismembered,  or 
held  in  bondage  by  foreign  chiefs — the  prolific  Chinese  race 
will  ever  remain  one  of  the  most  important  factors  in  the 
great  struggle  for  life  of  races  and  nations,  a  struggle  for 
which  she  is  assuredly  better  prepared  than  many  of  those 
who  consider  her  an  easy  prey,  which  they  may  possibly 
devour,  but  certainly  will  not  digest. 

It  is  not  without  some  intent  that  till  now  I  have  hardly 
spoken  of  the  United  States,  whose  guest  I  am  to-day ;  last 
but  not  least. 


154   HISTORY  OF  GREECE,  ROME  AND  ASIA 

The  initiative  of  the  trade  of  the  United  States  with  the 
Far  East  is  not  due,  as  one  might  be  tempted  to  believe,  to 
the  merchants  of  the  western  coast,  but  to  the  enterprising 
and  spirited  merchants  of  New  England,  Boston,  New 
York,  Baltimore,  whose  wooden  ships  doubled  Cape  Horn 
to  go  to  Canton.  Eight  years  after  the  Declaration  of  In- 
dependence, on  Sunday,  February  22,  1784,  for  the  first 
time  an  American  ship,  The  Empress  of  China,  set  sail  at 
New  York  for  China ;  since  then  an  unbroken  line  of  vessels 
flying  the  star-spangled  banner  has  crossed  the  Pacific  Ocean 
and  established  a  communication  between  Young  America 
and  Old  Asia ;  but  the  starting-point  has  been  changed,  and 
it  is  now  from  the  coast  of  California  that  the  swift  steam- 
ers which  connect  the  two  shores  are  sent, 

I  remember  the  time,  not  yet  far  off,  when  the  American 
trade  almost  equaled  that  of  England,  and  when  at  Canton 
and  Shang-hai  the  "Merchant  Princes"  of  Boston  and  New 
York  did  not  yield  either  in  their  wealth  or  their  influence 
to  those  of  London  and  Liverpool.  Looking  backward,  I 
cannot  but  think  with  gratefulness  and  not  without  some 
melancholy  of  the  happy  hours  I  have  spent  in  the  house  of 
Messrs.  Russell  &  Co.,  whose  head,  Edward  Cunningham 
of  Boston,  was  the  most  popular,  the  most  esteemed,  and 
the  most  justly  influential  citizen  of  Shang-hai. 

The  civilizing  mission  which  the  United  States  have  taken 
upon  themselves  has  been  extended  beyond  the  already  large 
frontiers  of  their  dominion;  the  occupation  of  the  Hawaiian 
and  Philippine  Islands  has  created  new  desires  in  a  com- 
mercial and  industrial  nation,  turned  it  into  a  political  power 
which,  in  the  future  destinies  of  this  new  Mediterranean 
called  the  Pacific  Ocean,  has  the  right  to  claim  its  share  of 
legitimate  influence. 

May  I  be  permitted  at  the  end  of  this  lecture  to  express 
my  gratitude  to  those  who  did  me  the  honor  and  gave  me 


HISTORY  OF  ASIA— GENERAL  SURVEY    155 

the  pleasure  of  an  invitation  to  come  among  you,  and  to 
crave  the  indulgence  of  my  hearers,  ill  as  I  have  i>erformed 
my  task. 

Citizen  of  the  great  Sister  Republic,  I  do  not  forget  that 
being  bom  on  the  banks  of  the  mighty  Mississippi,  at  New- 
Orleans,  the  first  years  of  my  life  were  spent  under  the 
shelter  of  the  star-spangled  banner  of  the  Union;  I  feel 
happy  to  speak  before  fellow  countrymen,  regretting  the 
absence  of  the  world-renowned  traveler  and  scholar,  my 
friend,  the  Hon.  William  Woodville  Rockhill. 


HISTORICAL    DEVHLOPMEXT    AND    PRESENT 
CHARACTER  OP  THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY 

BY    PROFESSOR    KARI,    GOTTIIART    LAMPRECHT 

[Karl  Gottiiart  Lampreciit.  Professor  of  History,  Director  of  the 
Historical  Seminary  and  Historico-geographical  Institute,  Uni- 
versity of  Leipzig;  and  Privy  Councilor  to  the  Court  of  Saxony, 
b.  1856,  Jessen,  Province  of  Saxony.  University  of  Gottingen, 
1874-76;  University  of  Leipzig,  1876-78;  University  of  Munchen, 
1879.  A.M.  and  Ph.D.  University  of  Leipzig;  1-L.D.  Columbia 
University.  Candidate  of  Superior  Tutorship  Friedrich-Wllhelm 
Gymnasium,  Cologne-on-Rhiue,  1879-80;  Frivat-docent  and  Asso- 
ciate Professor,  University  of  Bonn,  1881-90;  Professor  of  History, 

University  of  Marburg.  1890-91;   University  of  Leipzig,  1891 . 

Member  various  scientific  and  learned  societies.  Author  or 
Editor  of  Contributions  to  the  History  of  French  Economical 
History:  German  Political  Econorny  in  the  Middle  Ages;  Sketches 
on  the  History  of  the  Rhine;  History  of  Germany.  8  vols.,  and 
many  other  works  of  history  and  historical  method.] 

History  is  primarily  a  socio-psychological  science.  In 
the  conflict  between  the  old  and  the  new  tendencies  in  his- 
torical investigation,  the  main  question  has  to  do  with 
social-psychic,  as  compared  and  contrasted  with  individual- 
psychic  factors;  or,  to  speak  somewhat  generally,  the 
understanding  on  the  one  hand  of  conditions,  on  the  other 
of  heroes,  as  the  motive  powers  in  the  course  of  history. 
Hence,  the  new  progressive,  and  therefore  aggressive  point 
of  view  in  this  struggle  is  the  socio-psychological,  and  for 
that  reason  it  may  be  termed  modern.  The  individual  point 
of  view  is,  on  the  other  hand,  the  older,  one  that  is  based 
on  the  championship  of  a  long-contested  but  now.  by  means 
of  countless  historical  works,  a  well-established  position. 

What  is,  then,  the  cause  of  these  differences?  Personal 
preference,  or  the  special  endowments  of  individual  in- 
vestigators? The  reaction  of  feeling  against  the  former 
exaggerations  of  the  one  or  the  other  principle?  Assimila- 
tion to  other  trends  of  thought,  philosophic  or  scientific, 

157 


158  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

of  the  science  of  history?  Nothing  of  the  kind.  Rather, 
we  are  at  the  turn  of  the  stream,  the  parting  of  the  ways 
in  historical  science. 

In  order  to  understand  better  the  process  tliat  is  going 
on,  let  us  consider  the  following  contrasts. 

Take  first  a  period  in  which  all  men,  within  a  relatively 
small  community,  such  as  we  see  in  the  beginnings  of  a 
nation,  are  absolutely  of  the  same  psychic  equality,  so  much 
so  that  they  in  action  and  feeling  can  be  said  to  stand 
side  by  side  as  examples  of  the  same  endowments.  Then 
take  another  age  in  which,  within  a  given  community  of 
much  greater  extent,  each  individual  differs  in  kind  from 
all  others,  so  that — even  more  than  is  at  present  the  case 
— his  volitions  and  sensations  differ  radically  from  those 
of  his  fellow  men. 

It  is  clear,  then,  that  we  have  here  the  two  poles  of 
human  activity,  whose  influences  must  give  different  results 
in  any  study  of  the  currents  of  life  that  we  call  historical 
psychic  existence,  the  life  embraced  within  the  limits  of 
these  poles.  In  the  first  case  the  treatment  would  yield 
only  a  delineation  of  the  life  of  units;  for  the  treatment 
of  the  collective  psychic  existence  would  produce  as  a  result 
only  a  sum  of  the  already  known, — the  psychic  existence 
of  the  individual.  In  the  second  case  we  should  indeed  take 
a  glance  first  at  the  psychic  life  of  the  unit,  from  which 
it  would  be  seen  that  it  by  no  means  included  the  character 
of  the  life  of  the  many,  but  rather  that  the  collective  psychic 
life  fertilized  by  the  marked  deviations  of  the  individual 
within  itself  is  quite  a  thing  in  itself,  with  its  peculiar 
psychic  or  socio-psychic  activity  of  the  individual  is  in  such 
a  manner  subordinate  as  to  be  dominated  by  it  for  the  best 
and  highest  ends. 

One  sees,  therefore,  that  the  first  case  of  the  coexistence 
of  persons  psychically   quite   identical    would    result   in   a 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  159 

purely  individual  psychology;  the  second  case  of  coexist- 
ence of  absolutely  differentiated  persons  would  result  in  a 
radically  socio-psychological  historical  method  of  treatment. 
But  the  instances  just  given  never  occur  in  perfection. 
However,  the  connections  formed  among  them  constitute 
principles  in  the  course  of  history  and  hisl(jrical  science ; 
the  pole  of  similarly  organized  persons  appears  in  the  be- 
ginning of  cultural  development  as  the  principle  of  lower 
culture,  while  the  pole  of  dissimilar  units  reveals  itself  as 
underlying  higher  cultures,  for  the  simple  reason  that  the 
trend  of  evolution  is  toward  progressive  differentiation 
and  intergradation  of  the  human  soul. 

If  on  the  results  of  the  examples  cited  and  deduced  in  a 
purely  psychological  manner  are  based  the  main  principles 
of  every  development  of  historical  treatment  from  the  low- 
est to  the  highest,  one  finds  corresponding  to  them,  in  the 
various  civilizations  of  the  world,  the  same  course  of  his- 
tory, descriptive  or  scientific.  It  begins  always  with  the 
individual-psychological  investigation  of  the  past,  and  ar- 
rives finally  at  a  markedly  social-psychological  point  of 
view.  In  a  word,  it  is  the  course  of  events  which  begins 
with  the  heroic  poem  and  ends  with  the  history  of  civiliza- 
tion. If  we  paint  the  panorama  of  this  historiographic 
development  rather  more  vividly  and  minutely,  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  individuals  of  the  lower  stages  of  civilization 
have  as  little  consciousness  of  the  conditions  that  are  char- 
acteristic of  them,  as  of  the  difference  between  these  con- 
ditions and  those  of  other  stages  of  civilization.  The 
English,  French,  Italian,  and,  in  particular,  the  German 
poet  of  the  golden  age  of  medievalism  who  worked  over 
the  materials  of  classic  antiquity,  transferred  them  un- 
consciously to  the  conditions  of  his  own  age.  .^neas 
became  a  knight,  and  Dido  a  fair  chatelaine.  It  was  only 
the  beginning  of  modern  times,  the  closing  centuries  of 


160  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

dying  medievalism,  that  brought  the  dawn  of  a  compre- 
liension  of  the  differences  of  various  cultural  conditions, 
and  therefore  in  our  opinion  a  quickened  sense  of  the  his- 
torical difference  of  the  periods  of  civilization  in  general. 
Similar  observations  might  be  made  in  the  history  of 
ancient  people  and  in  the  cultural  phases  of  Eastern  Asia. 
Everywhere  the  beginnings  of  socio-psychological  histor- 
ical comprehension  are  coincident  with  the  emancipation 
of  individuality  from  medieval  restraint,  in  order  to  enter 
on  the  so-called  new  age  with  the  more  rapid  process  of 
its  own  differentiation. 

But  before  this  stage  is  reached,  centuries  have  elapsed, 
and  centuries  in  which  history  was  understood  only  in  the 
individual-psychologic  sense,  merely  as  the  product  of 
single  distinguished  individuals.  And  correspondingly  the 
forms  of  historical  tradition  are  purely  individual.  Almost 
everywhere  there  appear  two  forms  which  may  be  taken 
as  typical, — genealogy  and  the  heroic  poem. 

A  characteristic  beginning!  Whence  arises  its  dual 
nature?  In  both  instances  we  are  concerned  with  the 
memory  of  single  persons,  particularly  of  ancestors.  But 
in  the  one  case  the  barren  record  is  taken  from  the  purely 
prosaic  reality  of  a  natural  pedigee,  in  the  other  the  single 
individual  is  selected  and  his  deeds  immortalized  in  poetic 
form  with  an  exaggerated  objectivity.  How  does  this 
difference  arise?  We  are  here  face  to  face  with  a  radical 
division  in  the  historical  point  of  view,  one  which  occurs 
in  all  ages  in  higher  as  in  lower  stages  of  culture.  It  can 
be  characterized  as  the  difference  between  naturalism  and 
idealism.  In  the  first  instance  reality  is  followed  closely, 
held  fast,  copied.  To  this  belong  the  rapid  offhand 
sketches,  the  journalism  of  to-day  in  so  far  as  it  serves 
as  the  annalistic  medium  of  news;  and,  finally,  statistics. 
In  the  other  case  there  intervenes  between  the  simultaneous 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  161 

photographic  and  phonographic  impression  of  occurrences 
and  their  collective  reproduction,  time,  and  with  time, 
memory.  Memory,  with  its  thousand  strange  associations, 
abbreviating,  rounding  off,  and  admitting  of  outer  in- 
fluences and  inner  prejudices;  in  a  word,  memory  is  the 
artist  that  individualizes  and  remodels  its  subject.  For 
what  else  is  idealism  but  the  retrospective  treatment  of  a 
theme  into  which  the  personal  note  enters, — indeed  with 
intention, — whereby  the  floodgates  are  opend  to  the  whole 
intellectual  current  of  personality  proper?  Hence  in  higher 
states  of  culture,  in  the  case  of  differentiated  individuals, 
the  personal  style  arises,  and  with  it  the  personal  work  of 
art;  while  in  lower  states  of  culture,  with  individuals  of 
similar  proportions,  and  from  the  simultaneous  work  of 
the  many,  the  impersonal,  the  typical  time-style  will  arise, 
and  with  it  the  art  work  of  this  particular  style. 

This  explains,  then,  for  the  beginnings  of  historical 
tradition  the  growth  of  naturalistic  and  realistic  forms  side 
by  side.  As  a  naturalistic  form  there  appears  by  preference 
the  genealogy;  as  idealistic,  the  heroic  poem.  And  with 
this  the  roots  of  the  contention  of  ages  are  laid  bare  as 
to  whether  an  historical  work  is  a  work  of  art  or  not.  It 
will  always  be  a  work  of  art  in  so  far  as,  even  in  naturalistic 
transmission,  at  least  in  higher  cultural  stages,  the  influence 
of  personal  elements  cannot  be  avoided.  And  it  will  be 
peculiarly  a  work  of  art  as  soon  as,  in  the  case  of  an  im- 
portant theme,  the  imagination  can  bring  forth  a  compo- 
sition by  means  of  idealizing  retrospection.  So  that,  when 
the  de  lege  ferenda  is  uttered,  one  can  only  advise  that  to 
every  historical  work  of  our  time,  not  only  unconsciously 
but  consciously,  the  character  of  a  work  of  art  should  be 
given. 

But  genealogy  and  the  epic  are  not  the  only  forms  of 
individual-psychic  tradition.     Together  with  them  and  with 


162  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

increasing  cultural  growth  and  intellectual  leisure,  others 
come  to  the  fore.  If  it  be  possible  to  follow  the  progress 
of  human  events  not  only  through  the  forms  of  tradition, 
as  required  in  genealogy  and  epic  poetry,  but  more  in- 
tensively ]:)y  means  of  the  written  letter,  the  chisel,  and 
the  stylus,  pedigrees  and  epics  will  be  superseded — if, 
indeed,  they  do  not  disappear  at  once — by  annals  and 
chronicles.  And  even  these  forms  can  be  improved  upon. 
In  the  history  of  every  human  community,  the  inevitable 
moment  comes  in  which  reason,  based  on  increasing  ex- 
perience, attempts  independently  to  classify  and  control 
the  world  of  phenomena,  in  which  the  logical  conclusion 
begins  gradually  to  yield  to  induction,  and  the  miraculous 
to  the  causal  principle;  and  if,  with  this,  there  begins  a 
really  scientific  mastery  of  the  outward  world,  then  this 
too  takes  hold  of  historical  tradition.  And  the  direction 
it  follows  is  both  naturalistic  and  idealistic. 

In  the  first  instance  tradition  is  ransacked  for  new 
sources ;  when  found,  these  are  brought  to  light  in  a  clear- 
cut  literary  form.  With  untiring  zeal  the  whole  field  is 
worked  over,  and  a  careful  consideration  of  isolated  events 
is  entered  upon,  of  which  the  object  is  to  show  each  single 
occurrence  to  be  indisputably  genuine;  it  is  then  polished 
up,  rubbed  clear  of  its  rusty  casing,  and  presented  to  the 
world. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  great  need  for  the  enormous 
accumulations  of  the  classified  and  isolated  traditional  data 
produced  by  the  unceasing  mills  of  naturalistic  criticism : 
these  data  must  be  turned  to  account  as  material  for  a  more 
general  positive  structure  of  history  with  its  divisions  and 
emendations.  Of  course  this  is  to  be  done  under  the  direc- 
tion of  an  authoritative  and  constructive  mind,  and  not 
without  the  aid  of  the  imagination.  How  else  is  a  control 
of  the  enormous  material  possible?     But  the  mere  mem- 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  163 

orizing  of  details  and  a  linking  together  of  particulars,  a 
handling  such  as  was  referred  to,  is  clearly  proved  to  be 
impossible.  It  is  necessary  that  we  employ  some  means 
of  mechanical  combination  of  the  parts  of  the  huge  world 
of  facts  which  knowledge  alone  can  supply,  certain  forms 
of  criticism  to  classify  the  mass  of  material  and  thereby 
control  it.  And  naturally  this  constructive  criticism  must 
deal  in  the  first  place  with  individuals  who  may  still  be 
considered  as  the  only  fundamental  psychic  motor  powers 
of  history.  If  their  deeds,  their  single  achievements,  and 
the  collective  achievements  of  single  persons, — if  these  can 
be  regarded  as  parts  of  a  completed  series  of  facts  in  official 
service  or  in  an  independent  profession,  they  must  be 
grouped  according  to  a  system  which  does  not  overlook 
the  universal  course  of  things  and  which  makes  the  whole 
only  the  more  intelligible.  This  is  the  origin  of  pragmatics. 
But  the  Divide  ct  impera  embraced  in  the  application  of 
the  pragmatic  principle  proves  itself  to  be  insufficient  in 
the  face  of  the  mass  of  traditional  material,  continually 
increasing  in  scope  as  it  does.  Above  those  groups  which 
pragmatism  has  thus  formed  to  facilitate  the  handling  of 
events,  above  the  whole  survey  of  heroic  deeds,  incidents 
of  war  or  diplomatic  negotiations,  we  see  appearing  by 
degrees  the  outlines  of  a  better  system  of  classification  of 
material,  a  system  which  groups  series  of  events  of  entire 
ages  within  the  domain  of  whole  nations  and  families  of 
nations ;  as,  for  example,  the  outlines  of  certain  oft-recur- 
ring incidents  in  the  history  of  the  Papacy,  or  the  types 
of  similar  occurrences  in  the  development  of  the  Prussian 
monarchy,  or  the  main  characteristics  of  religious  move- 
ments in  all  respects  alike  and  which  are  to  be  detected  in 
the  piety  of  all  denominations  of  Protestantism.  It  is 
clearly  possible  to  follow  these  also  in  the  paths  of  form- 
ative   criticism    far   beyond    the   simple   domain   of   prag- 


164  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

matism.  The  common  landmarks,  too.  of  historical  hap- 
pening-s,  especially  when  pragmatically  grouped,  can  be 
massed  together  on  the  higher  plane.  \\'ith  this  accom- 
plished, the  work  of  the  historian  begins  at  the  point  where 
the  development  of  the  so-caUed  historic  theon,-  of  ideas 
sets  in.  The  term  **  idea  "  arises  from  the  application  of 
the  word  to  the  historic  elements  common  to  these  masses, 
so  that  the  idea  asserts  itself  as  a  form  of  higher  thought 
integration.  .\nd  in  Western  culture,  as  far  as  investi- 
gation permits  of  a  time-limit,  it  is  in  its  purely  historio- 
graphic  beginnings  to  be  first  found  in  the  historical  works 
of  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth  centur}-.^  One  naturally 
asks  here,  had  these  higher  forms  of  integration  from  the 
beginning  a  closer  connection  with  the  naturalistic  or  ideal- 
istic conception  of  histor}*?  It  is  of  interest  to  know  that 
these  comparatively  abstract  forms  of  intellectual  activity 
had,  for  purely  psychological  reasons  at  first,  the  closest 
connection  with  idealistic  historical  description.  Allied 
with  this  is  the  fact  that  this  activit}%  having  developed 
along  quite  primitive  lines  to  a  higher  plane,  was  yet 
capable  of  assuming  at  times  a  transcendental  character. 
The  ideas  which  were  made  the  basis  of  the  understanding 
of  the  greatest  historical  concatenations  by  isolation  and 
abstraction  of  the  elements  common  to  them,  did  not  appear 
as  human  ideas,  but  were  rather  divine  powers  holding 
sway  behind  these  events,  permeating  and  determining 
them,  as  emanative  and  associative  forms  of  the  absolute 
working  through  the  fates  of  men.  It  was  a  sort  of  ideal- 
istic historical  treatment  which  slowly  took  shape  in  Ger- 
many in  the  course  of  the  second  half  of  the  eighteenth 
centur}',  which  then,  owing  to  Schelling.  passed  over  into 
the  great  idealistic  philosophy  of  German  Romanticism,  to 


^  Ct.   of   recent  date,  Heussi,  Church  History  aid  its   Writing.     Johann    Lo- 
Ttnz  TOO  Moeheims,  Ootba,  1904. 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  165 

which  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  profoundest  tiicory 
of  hfe  Ranke  paid  homage  as  long  as  he  hved,  and  which, 
starting  from  all  these  points  of  the  development,  hecame 
a  constituent  part  of  all  the  higher  historical  training  of 
the  nineteenth  century. 

Meanwhile  the  strictly  epistemological  character  of  the 
theory  of  the  idea  had  certainly  been  recognized,  and  not 
least  clearly  at  the  beginning  of  the  great  discussions  of 
historical  methods  in  the  early  nineties  of  the  last  century, 
and  which  have  not  yet  entirely  ceased.  It  can  truly  be 
said  that  to-day,  practically  no  one  believes  in  the  tran- 
scendency of  historical  ideas, — that  is,  not  fully,  nor  even 
in  the  Ranke  sense, — but  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
usefulness  of  the  conceptions  contained  in  them  for  the 
grouping  of  the  greater  individual-psychic  series  of  events 
is  generally  conceded. 

While  the  individual-psychological  treatment  of  history 
has  been  thus  gradually  developed  to  the  state  of  perfection 
which  marks  it  to-day,  it  had  long  had  its  limits,  and,  as 
far  as  the  main  principles  of  historical  comprehension 
are  concerned,  its  substitution  in  the  form  of  socio-psy- 
chological  treatment  had  begun  and  had  been  proved  to 
be  necessary. 

In  the  course  of  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth,  but 
more  especially  in  the  eighteenth  and  nineteenth  centuries, 
all  the  peoples  of  Western  European  culture  passed  through 
stages  in  which  the  most  marked  psychic  differentiations 
took  place  in  the  individual  members  of  these  communities. 
A  certain  time-spirit  dominated  all  these  nations  in  which 
the  civilization  of  the  new  American  world  had  its  origin ; 
it  is  the  spirit  which  may  rightly  be  called  that  of  subjec- 
tivity. Not  uniformity,  but  variety  of  the  subjective  per- 
fection of  the  individual,  is  the  ideal  of  to-day.  And  the 
collective  culture  of  our  time  rests  on  vast  working  cor- 


166  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

porations  of  individuals  who  are  no  less  vastly  differen- 
tiated each  in  themselves. 

For  us  it  is  a  well-known  state  of  affairs,  this  product 
of  nervous  acti\ity  which  has  characterized  the  last  six 
or  seven  generations,  and  it  is  superfluous  to  describe  it 
in  detail.  But  it  would  not  be  inappropriate  to  trace 
once  and  for  all,  logically  and  clearly,  the  consequences 
of  these  changes  as  well  for  the  character  of  historical 
science  of  the  present  as  for  that  of  the  immediate  future. 
The  result  is  that  for  such  a  time  as  this  only  that  kind 
of  historical  comprehension  is  adequate  which,  side  by 
side  with  the  indiA'idual-psychological,  admits  also  the 
socio-psychological  treatment,  the  consideration  of  the 
evolution  of  the  collective  psychic  products  of  human  com- 
munities— a  treatment  which  does  not  merely  allude  oc- 
casionally to  this  admission,  but  maintains  consistently  and 
unconditionally,  that  for  every  case  of  historical  investiga- 
tion the  socio-psychological  forces  are  the  stronger,  and 
therefore  those  that  properly  determine  the  course  of 
things ;  that,  consequently,  they  include  the  operation  of 
the  individual-psychic  forces.  Granted  that  this  is  the 
universal  formulation  of  the  now  necessary  point  of  view 
as  it  is  carried  out  to-day  not  only  in  the  field  of  historio- 
graphy (in  some  instances  with  a  clear  insight  into  its  con- 
sequences), but  as  seen  in  the  new  sciences  and  new  methods 
which  it  has  made  to  bear  fruit,  for  example,  sociology, 
or  prehistoric  excavations ;  yet  it  would  be  a  mistake  to 
assume  that  the  revolution  in  this  direction  took  place 
suddenly  or  that  it  has  even  now  reached  its  completion. 
Rather  has  it  gone  forward  slowly  in  the  course  of  at 
least  a  century  and  a  half,  if  we  reckon  according  to  events 
in  Germany.  And  the  resulting  views  have  been  shown, 
though  in  steady  conflict  with  the  older  individual-psychic 
opinions,  to  be  invincible  in  spite  of  the  marks  of  imma- 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  167 

turity  and  a  lack  of  definiteness  borne  on  their  face.  They 
stand  forth,  nevertheless,  with  a  breadth,  a  logical  cohesion, 
and  an  inward  completeness,  which  it  has  been  beyond 
the  power  of  the  bitterest  hostility  to  weaken  or  to  remove. 
If  I  carry  the  study  further  to  the  contemplation  of  the 
evolution  of  Germany,  because  this  is  most  familiar  to 
me,  and  because,  I  believe,  by  keeping  to  a  narrower  limit, 
in  the  short  time  assigned  me  we  may  gain  greater  clear- 
ness and  a  more  plastic  form,  I  must  not  fail  to  mention 
the  honored  name  of  Herder,  the  hundredth  anniversary 
of  whose  death  has  just  been  fittingly  observed  by  Germans 
throughout  the  w'orld.  In  the  realm  of  Germanic  cultures, 
and  even  beyond  it.  Herder  stands  as  the  creator  of  the 
conception  "folk-soul"  (the  psyche  of  the  masses).  He 
was  the  first  to  admit  the  importance  of  the  socio-psychic 
demands  for  the  proper  historical  comprehension  of  the 
most  important  of  all  human  communities, — nations, — and 
to  draw  from  these  the  necessary  conclusions.  He  did 
it,^  not  in  a  calm,  entirely  emotionless,  and  intellectual  spirit 
of  research,  but  rather  by  leaps,  and  wnth  all  the  enthusi- 
asm of  the  explorer.  His  was  a  psychic  attitude  toward 
the  new-found  inexhaustible  material  of  the  socio-psychic 
inter-relations.  But  to  reproach  Herder  on  this  score 
would  betray  an  extremely  small  socio-psychic  under- 
standing. When  communities  have  made  rapid  progress 
toward  a  higher  spiritual  existence,  it  is  not  in  a  rational 
manner  or  with  purely  intellectual  age-marks  of  the 
thought  or  process.  Rather  with  youthful  feelings  of  an- 
ticipation, with  an  esctatic  presentiment  of  dimly  felt  com- 
binations, are  the  portals  of  a  new  epoch  entered.  Science 
becomes  a  prophecy,  philosophy  turns  to  poetical  meta- 
physics. That  was  the  character  of  the  Great  German 
period  of  subjectivity  that  began  with  Klopstock.  and  ended 

1  See  his  Ideas  concerning  the  History  of  Mankind. 


168  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

in  the  spreading  of  the  branches  of  the  philosophy  of 
identity — the  period  to  which  Herder,  as  one  of  its  first 
great  phenomena,  belongs.  Therefore  Herder's  enthusiastic 
grasp  of  the  socio-psychic  elements  of  history  does  not 
stand  alone.  It  is  the  property  of  the  whole  epoch  and 
dominates  the  characteristic  movement  of  the  time — 
romanticism.  The  advance  step  in  all  this  was  a  clearer 
view  of  the  vast  combinations  of  the  phenomena  of  the 
mass-psyche — an  advance  which  brought  one  to  describe 
vital  points  poetically,  in  part  or  wholly  so.  But  there  was 
not  the  clear  comprehension  of  the  constituent  elements  of 
the  mass-psyche  or  even  of  the  elementary  disentangling 
of  combined  phenomena. 

It  has  been  reserved  to  the  so-called  history-of-civiliza- 
tion  method  to  attempt  the  description  of  socio-psychic 
phenomena,  and  Freytag,  Riehl,  even  Burckhardt,  devoted 
themselves  to  this  task.  Since  the  last  decade  of  the  last 
century,  however,  this  method  has  gradually  grown  out 
of  date. 

That  no  progress  was  made  in  historical  method  during 
a  long  period  may  be  traced  to  the  existence  of  too  great 
a  mass  of  material  to  deal  with.  To  this  another  cause 
must  be  added.  The  first  great  subjective  period,  which 
had  begun  with  1750,  ended  about  1820,  at  latest  1830; 
then  about  1870  to  1880  another  epoch  begins,  the  second 
period  of  subjectivism.  In  the  interval,  however  (since 
1820,  at  least),  the  conquests  of  the  first  period  began  to 
be  not  so  much  developed  as  intellectualized.  Enthusiasm 
yielded  to  reflection,  the  anticipative  comprehension  of 
rationalism.  It  is  the  rebound  in  which,  in  the  domain  of 
natural  science,  the  period  of  natural  philosophy  was  re- 
placed by  the  recent  development  of  mechanics ;  the  change 
by  which,  in  the  field  of  mental  sciences,  the  old  rationalism 
of  the  Aufklarung,  as  it  had  been  developed  in  the  genera- 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  169 

tions   following    1680,   again   became  conspicuous,   though 
with  alterations.     The  outcome  of  this  movement  in   the 
science  of  history,  which  had  run  aground  in  the  impotent 
epigonism  of  art  and  poetry,  as  in  the  barren  historicism 
of  the  mental  sciences  of  the  period  of  18G0  to  1870,  was 
the   reappearance  of   the   individual-psychological   method. 
But  the  socio-psychological  point  of  view  was  not  yet  suf- 
ficiently well  grounded  to  maintain  its  supremacy.     In  the 
competition  of  these  rival  influences,  Ranke  grew  to  be  a 
master  of  his  art.     This   coincidence,   in   a  certain   sense 
most  fortunate,  and  at  all  events  peculiar  in  its  way,  gives 
to  him  and  his  works  a  position  all  their  own.     The  in- 
dividual-psychologic point  of  view  now  gains  the  ascend- 
ency  more   completely,    though   not   so   much   because   of 
Ranke  as  of  his   disciples,   especially  Von   Sybel.     There 
was  no  longer  any  particular  importance  attached  to  the 
efforts  of  those  who  thought  and  worked  according  to  the 
history-of-civilization    method;    these    were    not    opposed 
because  they  were  not  considered  as  of  more  than  passing 
significance.      It    was    a    time   of    almost   purely    political 
activity;  the  nation  yearned  with  every  fibre  of  its  soul  for 
the  long-coveted  political  unity.     Such  works  as  the  poli- 
tical history  of  the  old  German  empire  by  Giesebrecht,  or 
Droysen's  History   of  Prussian  Polity,   may  be   cited   as 
important  phenomena  in  this  connection.     \\'hy  should  they 
not  have  preferred  political   history — which,   to  a  certain 
extent,  was  the  individual-psychologic  method — to  all  other 
forms  of  history?    This  explains  for  the  most  part  the  fact 
that  the  advance  in  the  socio-psychological   interpretation 
of   events,   made   in   the   meantime   by   other  peoples,    for 
example,  the  French  in  the  philosophy  of  Comte,  met  with 
small  acceptance  in  Germany. 

But  the  last  decades  of  the  nmeteenth  century  brought 
the  rebound.     The  years  1870  and  1871  released  men  from 


170  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

their  great  anxieties  concerning  the  national  Hfe  and  unity; 
the  development  of  internal  culture  comes  prominently  now 
to  the  front.  And  that  happened  at  the  very  dawn  of  a  new 
period  of  modern  psychic  existence.  The  rise  of  political 
economy  and  technology,  the  rapid  development  of  freedom 
of  trade  all  over  the  globe,  the  victories  of  science  in  the 
realm  of  nature,  even  to  penetrating  into  the  confines  of  the 
inner  life:  all  of  this  and  a  host  of  other  less  important 
phenomena  yielded  an  untold  amount  of  new  stimuli  and 
possibilities  of  association,  and  with  that  an  unheard-of 
extension  of  psychic  activity  as  then  existing.  But  of  this 
more  in  another  lecture.  The  result  was  a  marked  dif- 
ferentiation of  intellectual  activity,  and  with  it  the  renewed 
and  determining  advance  of  the  socio-psychic  elements. 
This  was  evident  along  the  whole  line  of  scientific  en- 
deavor, especially  in  the  rise  of  sociology  and  anthropology 
during  the  last  decades,  with  their  far-reaching  conse- 
quences and  accompanying  phenomena.  In  the  domain  of 
history,  this  meant  a  fresh  start  in  the  writing  of  histories 
of  civilization  in  so  far  as  the  development  of  method  was 
energetically  taken  in  hand ;  description  alone  was  no  longer 
the  watchword,  but  an  intelligent  comprehension. 

It  was  now  a  question  of  following  up  the  complex  phe- 
nomena of  the  socio-psychic  life,  the  working  out  of  the 
so-called  national  soul  in  its  elementary  parts.  The  first 
step  on  this  path  would  necessarily  lead  to  the  immediate 
analysis  of  the  phenomena  that  appeared  within  the  exist- 
ence of  great  communities  of  men,  that  is  to  say,  chiefly 
of  nations.  Hence  the  proving  and  detailed  characteriza- 
tion of  socio-psychic  eras  within  this  domain :  this  was  the 
next  step.  We  can  see  how  this  was  done  by  Burckhardt 
who,  in  his  history  of  the  culture  of  the  Renaissance,  was 
the  first  to  point  out  the  great  psychic  difference  between 
the  so-called  Middle  Ages  and  the  periods  of  high  culture. 


Till',  srii'.xci': oi'  HISTOID' 


171 


'Pluis  ;i  m;iNtiT  liaml  iKii-rmiiicil  and  dt'piiU'd  one  of  llir 
mosi  iiiailvi'd  pli.iM's  ill  till-  ili\tliniir  iiicvi'mnit  of  tlu'  nil 
till  I' I'poilis  i)|  .1  ii.ilioii.  I''ii>iii  tlii-^  poiiii  tlu-  wav  inii.t 
lt"ad  on  ti>  a  slaUMiicnl  ol  tlio  rom  so  of  a  whole  scrii's  of 
niltural  a^cs.  This  has  been  altcmptod  in  my  dcrnum 
1 1 isti'f  y. 

r.iil  this  is  only  the  hoj^itiuiii};'  of  an  intensive  six'io- 
l»syilioK)};ieal  method.  In  this  hloekinj;  ont  i^\  the  eiilture 
epoehs,  the  elements  tif  the  scu'lo-psyehie  nnnements,  as 
s'rnh,  are  not  anal\/ed,  hiil  sinipU'  ttMiehed  npon,  and  the 
timi-  indicated  in  wliuh  i^umI  nio\einents  liiul  their  oiij^in. 
W  lu'ii  this  is  onee  well  done,  the  i|nestion  arises  whelhei" 
foi'  these  ap'cs  ^^\  inltine  there  is  one  eoinmon  nnderlyim; 
psychic  mechanism,  aiul  if  so,  ol  wh.it  natnre  it  is.  ami 
what  is  tlu"  as;^rej;ate  oi  these  inulerlyin<;,  yet  apparent, 
psychic  eleirents.  And  if  these  problems  are  soKed.  theie 
appears  finllier  a  last  \et  peiliaps  piovisional  i|nestii<n, 
namelv.  whether  the  psychii-  elements  relerred  to  are  really 
elementar\-  in  the  sense  that  they  are  tt>  Ik*  foniiil  in  the 
results  of  niodi-in  ps\clioK\i;'y  as  hitherto  known. 

'Phis  is  not  tlu-  place  to  analy/i-  or  attempt  to  soUe  tlu- 
(piestions  thus  raisetl ;  hut  the  means  oi  lindini;"  an  answer 
will  he  pointed  ont  in  the  later  lectures,  at  least  in  so  far 
as  to  pro\  e  that,  \>.''V  the  mecli.inism  ol  the  i;reat  sivio- 
psNcIiic  nuuenients,  the  same  elenients  and  l.iws  hold  good 
i)\  which  proof  is  given  in  recent  psychological  investiga- 
tion, and  with  that  of  the  discovery  of  the  elementary 
psychic  eneig\'  pi"o]ier  to  the  historical  minement.  At 
this  point  there  arises,  in  conse(|uence  oi  the  preceding 
statement,  aiu^ther  (piestion.  If  HKnlern  historical  science 
would  iHMietrate  to  the  innernu^st  springs  of  universal  his- 
tory, find  them  to  he  in  certain  psychic  condititMis.  does  it 
act  thus  in  i-onformitv  with  the  universal  tendencies  of  the 
time,  and   has   it   accortlingly   the  prospect   of  a   wholesome 


172  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

duration  and  development?    Here  is  the  first  difficulty  to  b< 
solved.     The  second  is  as  follows:  if  modern  historical  sci 
ence  as  thus  set  forth  is  in  accord  with  the  spirit  of  the  time, 
what  is  then  its  relation  to  and  effect  on  other  sciences? 

For  those  who  are  acquainted  with  intellectual  move- 
ments of  Western  Europe,  the  first  question — that  a  more 
intensive  study  of  all  phenomena,  a  closer  acquaintance 
with  nature — is  easy  enough  to  answer.  An  impression 
which  at  first  took  hold  of  the  external  phenomena  with  a 
certainty  of  touch  hitherto  unknown  was  followed  in  the 
field  of  mental  sciences  and  imagination  by  a  psychological 
impressionism  that  discovered  and  revealed  the  depths  of 
the  psychic  life  which  till  now  had  lain  concealed  under 
the  threshold  of  consciousness.  The  spirit  brought,  in 
regard  to  natural  sciences,  an  intensity  of  observation 
which  appeared  almost  to  threaten  those  mechanical 
theories  which,  during  centuries  of  energetic  research,  had 
stood  as  true  and  sufficient  for  all  further  progress  in 
investigation.  In  this  course  of  psychic  progress  the  his- 
torical science  of  socio-psychology  takes  its  place  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course;  it  is  nothing  but  the  application  of  greater 
intensity  of  observation  to  historical  material.  And  there 
is  prospect,  therefore,  of  a  further  development  of  this 
idea,  not  only  on  Western  and  Middle  European  soil,  but 
since  the  new^  psychic  existence  is  due  chiefly  to  the  vast 
extension  of  association  and  stimuli  which  arise  from  the 
new  technical,  economic,  and  social  culture,  it  will  estab- 
lish itself  everywhere  where  Western  civilization  prevails, 
as  is  actually  being  shown  to-day  in  the  New  World  and 
in  Japan. 

If  socio-psychological  history  is  of  such  growing  im- 
portance, the  more,  then,  does  its  relationship  to  other 
sciences  call  for  consideration,  even  though  but  few  words 
can  be  devoted  to  it. 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  173 

Foremost  and  clearest  is  its  connection  with  psychology. 
History  in  itself  is  nothing  but  a])i)lie(l  psychology.  Hence 
we  must  look  to  theoretical  psychology  to  give  us  the  clue 
to  its  true  interpretation. 

How  often,  indeed,  has  not  psychology  been  named  the 
mechanics  of  mental  science,  in  particular  of  the  science 
of  history?  But  the  appreciation  of  this  connection  and 
the  practical  application  of  it  are  quite  different  things. 
For  the  latter  it  is  necessary  that  the  i.tudy  of  historical 
phenomena  be  extended  to  the  most  elementary  occur- 
rences and  processes, — even  those  processes  with  which 
psychology  has  primarily  to  do.  It  is  characteristic  of  the 
progress  of  science  during  the  period  of  subjectivism  of 
about  1750  or  that  at  the  beginning,  at  least,  neither  his- 
tory nor  psychology  was  understood.  Of  how  little  im- 
portance was  psychology  when  books  like  Creutzer's 
Bssay  on  the  Soul  and  the  fruitful  but  primitive  journalism 
of  the  decades  of  sentimentalism  and  the  "  Sturm  und 
Drang  "  periods  tried  at  least  to  set  it  free  from  the  old 
traditional  metaphysical  theories.  A  universal  genius  like 
Kant  was  right  to  refrain  from  taking  part  in  such  prim- 
itive beginnings,  and  this  stage  of  philosophy  corresponded 
to  that  of  history. 

Psychology  and  historical  science  begin  to  approach  each 
other  about  1800,  under  the  influence  of  the  new  ideas  of 
the  time;  but  they  were  as  yet  far  from  meeting;  between 
them  still  lay  heavy  and  bulky  masses  of  scientifically  un- 
analyzed  psychic  matter. 

How  different  it  is  to-day  in  the  first  decade  of  a  new 
period  of  subjectivism,  which  in  so  many  of  its  parts  seems 
to  be  a  restoration  of  the  old,  only  in  a  higher  stage  of 
development.  To-day  psychology  looks  back  on  two  gen- 
erations of  investigators,  who  delivered  it  from  the  deadly 
grasp  of  metaphysics  and  made  it  an  independent  science. 


174  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

W'undt  followed  Herbart.  And  now  a  younger,  a  third, 
generation  is  at  work  perfecting  and  amplifying  the  results 
obtained.  These  results,  however  they  may  vary  and  be- 
come matters  of  dispute,  according  to  the  direction  of 
investigation,  permit  a  profound  insight  into  the  legitimate 
course  of  individual-psychic  life  such  as  was  denied  to  our 
predecessors.  The  most  important  results  of  all  this  in- 
vestigation for  the  historical  student  are  recorded  in  the 
works  of  Wundt,  Ebbinghaus,  Miinsterberg,  Lipps, — col- 
lections of  data  which  have  already  become  indispensable 
to  the  allied  sciences. 

This  is  a  condition  of  things  extremely  helpful  to  his- 
torical science  in  the  socio-psychic  direction.  If  one  pene- 
trates into  the  depths  of  historic  causation,  it  will  be  found 
that  psychology  has  prepared  the  way  and  has  become  a  safe 
guide  to  the  historian,  who  wishes  to  make  known  his  dis- 
coveries in  formulae  in  which  they  may  be  fitly  expressed. 

In  this  way  psychology  and  historical  science  entered 
into  partnership.  The  partition  between  them  is  giving  way, 
and  certainly  one  may  say — if  it  may  thus  be  expressed — 
that  psychology  increasingly  serves  as  a  mechanical  force 
to  history. 

But  the  relations  of  the  two  sciences  are  by  no  means 
thus  completely  described.  Just  as  along  with  the  psy- 
chology of  the  normal  adult  there  must  be  kept  in  mind 
that  of  childhood  and  old  age  in  order  that  the  antithetic 
character  of  all  psychic  processes,  the  full  extent  and  the 
whole  circle  of  the  potentiality  of  the  human  psyche,  as 
far  as  the  individual  is  concerned,  may  be  appreciated  and 
the  coresponding  biological  functions  be  observed,  so  it  is 
necessary  to  obtain  a  full  comprehension  of  the  meaning 
of  the  socio-psychological  process  in  history  in  order  to 
proceed  in  a  manner  quite  analogous.  In  this  instance 
psychology   is    dependent    on   history,    and    only    from    an 


THE  SCIENCE  OF  HISTORY  175 

intensive    investigation    of    the    cultural    periods    of    man- 
kind as  a  whole  are  the  data  attainable  which  will  enable 
one  to   recognize  the  antithetic  tendencies  of  the  human- 
mind  in  its  whole  empiric  compass. 

Thus  we  get  a  starting-point  from  which  the  relation 
of  modern  historical  science  to  the  other  mental  sciences 
may  be  explained.  These  may  be  divided  into  applied, 
such  as  theology,  jurisprudence,  political  economy,  politics, 
etc.,  and  into  constitutive,  history  of  language,  literature, 
art,  etc.  It  is  clear  that  the  constitutive  branches  simply 
disappear  as  parts  of  modern  historical  science.  For  if 
the  latter  concerns  itself  with  the  investigation  of  the 
dominating  social  psyche  of  the  times  in  question,  and  with 
its  changing  forms  during  the  various  ages  of  culture,  it  can 
only  do  this  by  taking  a  survey  of  all  its  embodiments  in 
history  from  time  to  time.  These  are  to  be  found  in 
language,  in  poetry,  and  art  (that  is,  style),  in  science  and 
philosophy,  the  climax  of  intellectual  attainment,  argu- 
mentation, etc.  And  correspondingly,  socio-psychological 
history  is  the  universal  foundation  of  all  these  sciences, 
and  these  are  related  to  it  as  amplifying  and  special  sciences. 
But  even  more  is  the  case  with  relation  to  the  applied 
mental  sciences.  For  the  latter,  which  have  reference  to  a 
certain  given  psyche  of  a  certain  cultural  period,  require  a 
general  knowledge  of  this  period,  which  leads  to  the  socio- 
psychological  science  of  history. 

Historical  science  therefore  plays  a  double  part:  (1) 
as  the  basis  of  the  practical  as  of  the  theoretical  mental 
sciences,  and  (2)  as  stimulus  to  an  historical  method 
within  the  range  of  psychology.  It  is  a  position  which  is 
quite  normally  conditioned  by  the  fact  that  psychic  move- 
ments pass,  as  regards  time,  far  more  rapidly  than  physi- 
cal movements,  and  that  the  change  appears  to  us  qualita- 
tively different  on  that  account.     If  in  their  relations  the 


176  MEDIEVAL  HISTORY 

psychic  developments  of  a  given  time  had  corresponded  to 
the  physical,  only  one  mechanism  would  be  needed  to  domi- 
nate them  both;  for  they  would  have  shown  a  hundred 
thousand  and  more  years  ago  the  same  character  as  they 
show  in  the  traditional  records  of  to-day.  Xow  it  is  well 
known  that  where  the  conception  of  life  is  in  question, 
this  is  not  the  case ;  for  example,  in  animal  and  plant  organ- 
isms. In  human  life,  that  is,  in  history,  a  moment  of  much 
quicker  change  of  phenomena  intervenes.  How  is  it  to  be 
controlled?  It  can  only  happen  in  that  psychology  as  a 
psychological  mechanism  is  allied  with  a  functional  idea 
of  the  time  and  becomes  at  once  variable.  And  this  func- 
tional idea  historical  science  must  apply.  Through  this  it 
grows  to  be  an  evolutionistic  psychology  fully  suited  to  the 
actual  course  of  things  and  as  such  the  basis  of  mental 
sciences,  both  theoretical  and  applied. 

Is  not  the  relation  of  the  historical  to  natural  science 
determined  by  the  last  few  remarks,  even  if  these  are  only 
general  propositions?  I  think  so,  if  one  does  not  indeed 
include  physics  and  chemistrv'  in  the  historic  point  of  view, 
— sciences  the  objects  of  which  belong  to  the  passing  mo- 
ment. However,  if  one  does  this,  nothing  remains  but 
to  admit  that  there  are  biological  agencies  even  in  inorganic 
nature;  with  this  we  are  driven  out  of  the  sphere  of 
science  into  the  atmosphere  of  h>'pothetic  philosophy,  into 
metaphysical  mode  of  thought. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  transcend  the  bounds  of  our  sub- 
ject, to  pass  over  the  border-line  that  divides  philosophy 
and  science.  But  one  thing  has  been  determined  by  these 
reflections, — that  the  modem  science  of  history  has  opened 
up  for  itself  a  vastly  greater  field  of  endeavor  and  conflict, 
and  that  it  will  require  thousands  of  diligent  workers  and 
creative  minds  to  open  up  its  rich  and  in  many  respects 
unknown  regions,  and  to  cultivate  them  successfully. 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY  IN  THE 
PERSPECTIVE  OF  KNOWLEDGE. 

BY  JOHN   B.  BURY 

[John  B.  Bub^.  Professor  of  Modern  History,  Cambridge  University, 
b.  Oct.  16,  1861.  B.A.  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  1882;  Fellow,  ibid. 
1885;  M.  A.  ibid.  1885;  Professor  of  Modern  History,  Dublin  Uni- 
versity, 1893-98;   Protessor  of  Greek,  ibid.  1898-1902;   Professor  of 

Modern   History,    Cambridge    University,    1902 .    Authob   or 

History  of  the  Later  Roman  Empire,  from  Arcadius  to  Irene; 
Studejit's  History  of  the  Roman  Empire,  from  Augustus  to 
Marcus  Aurelius;  History  of  Greece  to  Death  of  Alexander  the 
Great.  Editor  of  Pindar's  Isthmian  Odes;  and  Semean  Odes; 
Freeman's  History  of  Federal  Government  in  Greece;  Gibbon'$ 
Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.] 

To  define  the  position  which  the  history  of  the  last  four 
hundred  years  occupies  as  an  object  of  study,  or  to  signahze 
its  particular  importance  as  a  field  of  intellectual  activity, 
requires  a  preliminary  consideration  of  the  place  which 
history  in  general  holds  in  the  domain  of  human  knowledge. 
And  this  consideration  cannot  be  confined  to  purely  political 
history.  For  political  history  is  only  an  abstraction, — an 
abstraction  which  is  useful  and  necessary  both  practically 
and  theoretically,  but  is  unable  to  serve  as  the  basis  of  a 
philosophical  theory.  Political  development  in  the  chronicle 
of  a  society,  or  set  of  societies,  is  correlated  with  ether  de- 
velopments which  are  not  political ;  the  concrete  history  of  a 
society  is  the  collective  histor}-  of  all  its  various  activities, 
all  the  manifestations  of  its  intellectual,  emotional,  and 
material  life,  ^^'e  isolate  these  manifestations  for  the  pur- 
pose of  analysis,  as  the  physiologist  can  concentrate  his 
attention  on  a  single  organ  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  body : 
but  we  must  not  forget  that  political  history  out  of  relation 
to  the  whole  social  development  of  which  it  is  a  part  is  not 
less  unmeaning  than  the  heart  detached  from  the  body. 

a77 


178  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

The  inevitable  and  perfectly  justifiable  habit  of  tracing 
political  development  by  itself,  and  making  political  events 
chronological  landmarks,  led  to  an  unfortunate  restriction 
of  the  use  of  the  v^ord  history,  which,  when  used  without 
qualification,  is  commonly  taken  to  mean  political  history, 
and  not  history  in  the  larger  concrete  sense  which  I  have 
just  defined.  This  ambiguity  furnishes  an  explanation  and 
excuse  for  the  view  that  history  is  subservient  to  political 
science,  and  that  the  only  or  main  value  of  historical  study 
consists  in  its  auxiliary  services  to  the  study  of  political 
science.  This  doctrine  was  propagated,  for  instance,  by 
Seeley,  and  gained  some  adhesion  in  England.  Now  if  we 
detach  the  growth  of  political  institutions  and  the  se- 
quence of  political  events  from  all  the  other  social  phe- 
nomena, and  call  this  abstraction  history,  then  I  think 
Seeley's  theory  would  have  considerable  justification.  His- 
tory, in  such  a  sense,  would  have  very  little  worth  or  mean- 
ing beyond  its  use  as  supplying  material  for  the  inductions 
of  political  science,  the  importance  of  which  I  should  be  the 
last  to  dispute.  But  if  the  political  sequence  is  grasped  as 
only  one  part  of  the  larger  development  which  constitutes 
history  in  the  fuller  sense,  then  it  is  clear  that  the  study  of 
political  history  has  its  sufficient  title  and  justification  by 
virtue  of  its  relation  to  that  larger  development  which  in- 
cludes it,  and  that  it  is  not  merely  the  handmaid  of  political 
science.  Political  science  depends  upon  its  data,  and,  in 
return,  illuminates  it ;  but  does  not  confer  its  title-deeds. 

But  a  larger  and  more  formidable  wave,  threatening  the 
liberty  of  history,  has  still  to  be  encountered.  It  may  be 
argued  that  the  relation  of  dependence  holds  good,  though 
it  must  be  stated  in  a  different  and  more  scientific  form.  It 
may  be  said :  Political  science  is  a  branch  of  social  science, 
just  as  political  history  is  a  part  of  general  history;  and 
the  object  of  studying  general  history  is  simply  and  solely 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY        17:» 

to  collect  and  furnish  material  for  sociological  science. 
Thus  the  former  theory  reappears,  subsumed  under  a  higher 
principle.  The  study  of  history  generally  is  subordinate  to 
sociology;  and  it  follows  that  the  study  of  political  history 
especially  is  subordinate  to  that  branch  of  sociology  which 
we  call  political  science.  The  difference,  and  it  is  a  very 
important  difference,  is  that,  on  this  theory,  political  history 
is  no  longer  isolated;  its  relations  of  coordination  and  inter- 
dependence with  the  other  sides  of  social  development  would 
be  recognized  and  emphasized.  But  the  study  of  general 
history,  including  political,  would  be  dependent  on,  and 
ancillary  to,  a  study  ulterior  to  itself. 

Now  this  theory  seems  to  run  counter  to  an  axiom  which 
has  been  frequently  enunciated  and  accepted  as  self-evident 
in  recent  times,  namely,  that  history  should  be  studied  for 
its  own  sake.  It  is  one  of  the  remarkable  ideas  which  first 
emerged  explicitly  into  consciousness  in  the  last  century 
that  the  unique  series  of  the  phenomena  of  human  developn 
ment  is  worthy  to  be  studied  for  itself,  without  any  ulterior 
purpose,  without  any  obligation  to  serve  ethical  or  thecv- 
logical,  or  any  practical  ends.  This  principle  of  "history 
for  its  own  sake"  might  be  described  as  the  motto  or  watch- 
word of  the  great  movement  of  historical  research  which 
has  gone  on  increasing  in  volume  and  power  since  the  be- 
ginning of  the  last  century.  But  has  this  principle  a  theo- 
retical justification,  or  is  it  only  an  expedient  but  inde- 
fensible fiction  instinctively  adopted?  Is  the  postulate  of 
"history  for  its  own  sake"  simply  a  regulative  idea  which 
we  find  it  convenient  to  accept  because  experience  teaches  us 
that  independence  is  the  only  basis  on  which  any  study  can 
be  pursued  satisfactorily  and  scientifically;  and  while  we 
accord  history  this  status,  for  reasons  of  expedience,  is  it 
yet  true  that  the  ultimate  and  only  value  of  the  study  lies  in 
its  potential  services  to  another  discipline,  such  as  sociology'  ? 


180  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

It  seems  to  me  that  our  decision  of  this  question  must  fall 
out  according  to  the  view  we  take  of  the  relation  of  man's 
historical  development  to  the  whole  of  reality.  We  are 
brought  face  to  face  with  a  philosophical  problem.  Our 
appiehension  of  history  and  our  reason  for  studying  it  must 
be  ultimately  determined  by  the  view  we  entertain  of  the 
moles  ct  machina  nuindi  as  a  whole.  Naturalism  will  imply 
a  wholly  different  view  from  idealism.  In  considering  the 
place  of  history  in  the  kingdom  of  knowledge,  it  is  thus  im- 
possible to  avoid  referring  to  the  questions  with  which  the 
so-called  philosophy  of  history  is  concerned. 

If  human  development  can  be  entirely  explained  on  the 
general  lines  of  a  system  such  as  Saint-Simon's  or  Comte's 
or  Spencer's,  then  I  think  we  must  conclude  that  the  place 
of  history,  within  the  frame  of  such  a  system,  is  subordinate 
to  sociology  and  anthropology.  There  is  no  separate  or  in- 
dependent precinct  in  which  she  can  preside  supreme.  But 
on  an  idealistic  interpretation  of  knowledge,  it  is  otherwise. 
History  then  assumes  a  different  meaning  from  that  of  a 
higher  zoology,  and  is  not  merely  a  continuation  of  the 
process  of  evolution  in  nature.  If  thought  is  not  the  result, 
but  the  presupposition,  of  the  process  of  nature,  it  follows 
that  history,  in  which  thought  is  the  characteristic  and 
guiding  force,  belongs  to  a  different  order  of  ideas  from  the 
kingdom  of  nature  and  demands  a  different  interpretation. 
Here  the  philosophy  of  history  comes  in.  The  very  phrase 
is  a  flag  over  debated  ground.  It  means  the  investigation 
of  the  rational  principles  which,  it  is  assumed,  are  disclosed 
in  the  historical  process  due  to  the  cooperation  and  inter- 
action of  human  minds  under  terrestrial  conditions.  If  the 
philosophy  of  history  is  not  illusory,  history  means  a  dis- 
closure of  spiritual  reality  in  the  fullest  way  in  which  it  is 
cognizable  to  us  in  these  particular  conditions.  And,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  possibility  of  an  interpretation  of  history 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY        181 

as  a  movement  of  reason,  disclosing  its  nature  in  terres- 
trial circumstances,  seems  the  only  hypothesis  on  which  the 
postulate  of  "history  for  its  own  sake"  can  be  justified  as 
valid. 

This  fundamental  problem  belongs  to  philosophy  and  lies 
outside  the  scope  of  discussion.  All  that  can  be  done  for  the 
present  occasion  is  to  assume  the  validity  of  that  kind  of 
interpretation  which  is  generally  called  the  philosophy  of 
history,  and,  starting  with  this  postulate,  to  show  the  par- 
ticular  significance  of  modern  history.  Perhaps  it  may 
be  said  that  such  interpretation  is  quite  a  separate  branch 
of  speculation,  distinct  from  history  itself,  and  not  neces- 
sarily the  concern  of  an  historical  student.  That  is  a  view 
which  should  be  dismissed,  for  it  reduces  history  to  a  col- 
lection of  annals.  Facts  must  be  collected,  and  connected, 
before  they  can  be  interpreted ;  but  I  cannot  imagine  the 
slightest  theoretical  importance  in  a  collection  of  facts  or 
sequences  of  facts,  unless  they  mean  something  in  terms 
of  reason,  unless  we  can  hope  to  determine  their  vital  con- 
nection in  the  whole  system  of  reality.  This  is  the  funda- 
mental truth  underlying  Macaulay's  rather  drastic  remark 
that  "facts  are  the  dross  of  history." 

It  is  to  be  observed  that  the  idea  of  history  as  a  self- 
centred  study  for  its  own  sake  arose  without  any  conscious- 
ness of  further  implications,  w-ithout  any  overt  reference  to 
philosophical  theory  or  the  systematization  of  knowledge. 
It  appeared  as  an  axiom  which  at  once  recommended  itself 
as  part  of  the  general  revolutionary  tendency  of  every 
branch  of  knowledge  to  emancipate  itself  from  external 
control  and  manage  its  own  concerns.  While  this  idea  was 
gaining  ground,  a  large  number  of  interpretations  or  "i)hil(i- 
sophies"  of  history  were  launched  upon  the  world,  from 
Germany,  France,  England,  and  elsewhere.  They  were 
nearly  all  constructed  by  philosophers,  not  by  historians; 


182  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

they  were  consequently  conditioned  by  the  nature  of  the 
various  philosophical  systems  from  which  they  were  gener- 
ated ;  and  they  did  a  great  deal  to  bring  the  general  idea  of  a 
philosophy  of  history  into  discredit  and  create  the  suspicion 
that  such  an  idea  is  illusory.  I  observe  with  interest  that 
this  Congress,  in  the  Department  of  Philosophy,  assigns  a 
section  to  the  Philosophy  of  Religion  but  not  to  the  Philo- 
sophy of  History.  I  feel,  therefore,  the  less  compunction, 
that  my  argument  compels  me  to  make  some  remarks  about 
it  here. 

I  need  hardly  remind  you  that  the  radical  defect  of  all 
these  philosophical  reconstructions  of  history  is  that  the 
framework  is  always  made  a  priori,  with  the  help  of  a  super- 
ficial induction.  The  principles  of  development  are  super- 
imposed upon  the  phenomena,  instead  of  being  given  by 
the  phenomena;  and  the  authors  of  the  schemes  had  no 
thorough  or  penetrative  knowledge  of  the  facts  which  they 
undertook  to  explain.  Bossuet  bodly  built  his  theory  of 
universal  history  on  the  hardly  disguised  axiom  that  man- 
kind was  created  for  the  sake  of  the  Church ;  but  nearly  all 
the  speculative  theories  of  historical  development  fram.ed  in 
the  nineteenth  century,  though  less  crudely  subjective,  fall 
into  the  same  kind  of  fallacy. 

Two  of  the  most  notable  attempts  to  trace  the  rational 
element  in  the  general  movement  of  humanity  were  those  of 
Hegel  and  Krause.  They  are  both  splendid  failures,  Hegel's 
more  manifestly  so.  They  are  both  marked  by  an  insuf- 
ficient knowledge  of  facts  and  details,  but  in  imposing  a 
priori  framework  Hegel  is  far  more  mercilessly  Procrus- 
tean than  Krause.  It  was  the  modern  peri(xl  which  suffered 
most  painfully  through  Hegel's  attemi)t  io  screw  history 
into  his  iron  bed.  His  scheme  implies  that  the  modern 
period  represents  the  completion  of  historical  development, 
is  part  of  the  last  act  in  the  drama  of  the  human  spirit. 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY       183 

This  implication  is  preposterous.  What  we  know  about  the 
future  is  that  man  has  an  indefinite  time  in  front  of  him, 
and  it  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  in  the  course  of  that  time 
new  phases  of  thought  will  not  be  realized,  though  it  is 
quite  impossible  for  us  to  predetermine  them.  This  ernjr 
alone  is  sufficient  to  cast  suspicion  on  the  whole  edifice.  For 
the  stages  of  history,  as  a  revelation  of  spirit,  correspond 
ex  hypothesi  to  the  dialectical  stages  in  the  logical  evolution 
of  the  idea :  and  if  Hegel  fixes  the  terminus  of  the  historical 
evolution  at  a  point  immeasurably  distant  from  the  true 
term,  it  evidently  follows  that  the  correspondences  which 
he  has  established  for  the  preceding  stages  with  stages  in 
the  logical  evolution  must  be  wholly  or  partly  wrong,  and 
his  interpretation  breaks  down.  The  keys  are  in  the  wrong 
locks. 

Krause's  system,  which  has  had  considerable  influence  in 
Belgium,  avoids  the  absurdity  of  not  allowing  for  progress 
in  the  future, — a  consideration  which  there  was  no  excuse 
for  ignoring,  since  it  had  been  recognized  and  emphasized 
by  Condorcet.  He  divides  the  whole  of  human  history,  in- 
cluding that  which  is  yet  to  come,  into  three  great  periods, — • 
the  ages  of  unity,  of  variety,  and  of  harmony, — and  pro- 
nounces that  mankind  is  now  in  the  third  and  last  stage  of 
the  second  period.  This  theory,  you  perceive,  has  an  ad- 
vantage over  Hegel's  in  that  it  gives  the  indefinite  future 
something  to  do.  But,  although  this  Procrustes  is  more 
merciful,  the  Procrustean  principle  is  the  same;  there  is  an 
a  priori  system  into  which  human  development  has  to  be 
constrained.  I  am  not  concerned  here  to  criticise  the 
method  on  which  Krause  proceeds ;  I  only  want  to  illustrate 
by  two  notable  examples,  that  of  Hegel  who  ignores  the 
future,  and  that  of  Krause  who  presumes  to  draw  its  horo- 
scope, how  the  philosophy  of  history  has  moved  on  false 
lines,  through  the  illusion  that  it  could  construct  the  develop- 


184  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

ment  of  reason  in  history  from  any  other  source  than  history 
itself.  By  the  one  example  we  are  taught  that,  in  attempt- 
ing to  interpret  history,  we  must  remember  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  finality  within  measurable  distance : 

His   ego   nee  metas   rerum   nee   tempora   pono; 

while  the  other  example  warns  us  that  in  considering  the 
past  it  is  idle  to  seek  to  explain  it  by  any  synthesis  involv- 
ing speculations  on  the  inscrutable  content  of  the  future. 

It  is,  indeed,  curious  to  note  how  the  authors  of  the 
numerous  attempts  to  present  a  philosophical  construction 
of  history,  which  appeared  during  the  nineteenth  century, 
assume  so  naively,  that  their  owni  interpretations  are  final, 
and  that  the  ideas  which  are  within  the  horizon  of  their 
minds  are  the  ultimate  ideas  to  be  sighted  by  man,  the  last 
ports  to  be  visited  in  his  voyage  down  the  stream  of  time. 
It  is  strange  how  this  childish  delusion,  this  spell  of  the 
present,  has  blinded  the  profoundest  thinkers.  Hegel 
thought  that  the  final  form  of  political  constitution  was 
something  closely  resembling  the  Prussian  state,  that  the 
final  religion  is  Christianity,  that  the  final  philosophy  is  his 
own.  This  was  logical  in  his  case,  because  it  was  part 
of  his  view  that  the  plenitude  of  time  has  come;  yet  we  can 
have  very  little  doubt  that  this  doctrine  was  prompted 
psychologically  by  what  I  have  called  the  spell  of  the  present. 
But  even  those  who  were  able,  in  phrase  at  least,  to  tran- 
scend the  present  and  look  forward  to  indefinite  progress, 
speak  and  argue  nevertheless  as  if  the  ideas  which  are  now 
accessible  and  within  the  range  of  our  vision  could  never  be 
transcended  in  the  course  of  the  progress  which  they  admit. 
The  absurdity  of  this  v^iew  is  illustrated  by  reflecting  that 
the  ideas  with  which  these  writers  conjured — such  as  hu- 
manity, liberty,  progress,  in  the  pregnant  meanings  which 
those  words  now  possess — were  be}ond  men's  horizon  a  few 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY        185 

centuries  before.  We  must  face  the  fact  that  our  syntheses 
and  interpretations  can  have  only  a  relative  value,  and  that 
the  still  latent  ideas  which  must  emerge  in  the  process  of 
the  further  development  of  man  will  introduce  new  and 
higher  controlling  conceptions  for  the  interpretation  of  the 
past. 

I  have  pointed  out  the  common  error  into  which  philoso- 
phies of  history  have  fallen,  through  not  perceiving  that  in 
order  to  lay  bare  the  spiritual  process  which  history  repre- 
sents, we  must  go  to  history  itself  without  any  a  priori 
assumptions  or  predetermined  systems.  All  that  philosophy 
can  do  is  to  assure  us  that  historical  experience  is  a  dis- 
closure of  the  inner  nature  of  spiritual  reality.  This  dis- 
closure is  furnished  by  history  and  history  alone.  It  follows 
that  it  is  the  historian  and  not  the  philosopher  who  must 
discover  the  diamond  net;  or  the  philosopher  must  become 
an  historian  if  he  would  do  so. 

But  not  only  is  it  necessary  to  abandon  unreservedly  the 
Procrustean  principle ;  the  method  of  approach  must  also  be 
changed.  This  is  the  point  to  which  it  has  been  my  particu- 
lar object  tO'  lead  up.  The  interpreter  of  the  moveinent  of 
history  must  proceed  backward,  not  forward ;  he  must  start 
from  the  modern  period.  For  a  through,  fully  articulated 
knowledge  of  the  phenomena  is  essential — not  the  super- 
ficial acquaintance  with  which  speculators  like  Hegel 
worked ;  and  such  a  knowledge  is  only  attainable  for  the 
modern  period,  because  here  only  are  the  requisite  records 
preserved.  Here  only  can  one  hope  to  surprise  the  secrets 
of  the  historical  process  and  achieve  a  full  analysis  of  the 
complex  movement.  The  records  of  ancient  and  medieval 
history  are  starred  with  lacunae;  we  are  ignorant  of  whole 
groups  of  phenomena,  or  have  but  a  slight  knowledge  of 
other  groups ;  and  what  we  do  know  must  often  be  seen  in 
false  perspective  and  receive  undue  attention  on  account  of 


186  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

the  adjacent  obscurities.  We  can  survey  and  attempt 
syntheses ;  but  syntheses  without  fully  articulated  knowledge 
are  no  more  than  vague  shots  in  the  direction  of  a  dimly 
seen  object.  And  the  only  syntheses  possible  in  such  con- 
ditions are  insignificant  generalities,  bloodless  abstract  con- 
ceptions, like  the  d-ix^vr^vd.  xdp-rjva  of  Homcr's  world  of  shades. 
The  interpretation  of  history  that  shall  be  more  than  a  col^ 
lection  of  plausible  labels  must  grasp  the  vital  process,  per- 
ceive the  breath  and  motion,  detect  the  undercurrents,  trace 
the  windings,  discern  the  foreshadowings,  see  the  ideas 
traveling  underground,  discover  how  the  spiritual  forces  are 
poised  and  aimed,  determine  how  the  motives  conspire  and 
interact.  And  it  is  only  for  the  history  of  the  last  three 
or  four  hundred  years  that  we  possess  material  for  investi- 
gating this  complicated  process. 

And  it  is  for  the  development  of  the  nineteenth  century 
that  our  position  in  some  respects  is  most  fav^orable.  It  is 
commonly  said  that  recent  history  cannot  be  profitably 
studied,  on  the  ground  that  we  are  too  near  to  the  events 
to  be  able  to  treat  them  objectively  and  see  them  in  the 
right  perspective.  Admitting  the  truth  of  the  objection, 
recognizing  fully  that  recent  events  are  seen  by  us  "fore- 
shortened in  the  tract  of  time,"  we  must  nevertheless  re- 
member that  there  is  a  compensation  in  proximity  which  it 
is  disastrous  to  ignore.  For  those  who  are  near  have 
opportunities  of  tracing  the  hidden  moral  and  intellectual 
work  of  an  age  which  subsequent  generations  cannot  reach, 
because  they  are  not  in  direct  relation.  De  Tocqueville 
said :  "What  contemporaries  know  better  than  posterity  is 
the  mental  movement,  the  general  passions  and  feelings  of 
the  time,  whereof  they  still  feel  the  last  shuddering  motions 
(les  derniers  fremissements)  in  their  minds  or  in  their 
hearts."  If  this  is  so,  it  is  one  of  the  most  pressing  duties 
to  posterity  that  men  in  each  generation  should  devote  them- 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY        187 

selves  to  the  scientific  study  of  recent  history  from  this  point 
of  view. 

We  may  go  further,  and  declare  that,  in  this  light,  modern 
history  as  a  whole  possesses  a  claim  on  us  now,  which  does 
not  belong  either  to  antiquity  or  to  the  Middle  Ages.  We 
have  ourselves  passed  so  completely  beyond  the  spiritual 
boundaries  of  the  ancient  and  medieval  worlds  that  we  can 
hardly  suppose  that  we  possess  any  greater  capacity  for  a 
sympathetic  apprehension  of  them  than  our  descendants 
will  possess  a  thousand  years  hence.  Whereas,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  may  fairly  assume  that  we  are  in  a  much  better 
position  than  such  remote  posterity  for  sympathetic  appre- 
ciation of  the  movements — the  emancipatory  movements — 
of  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries.  It 
therefore  devolves  upon  us  before  we  have  drifted  too  far 
away  to  do  what  may  be  done  to  transmit  to  future  genera- 
tions the  means  of  appreciating  and  comprehending.  In 
this  sense  the  study  of  w'hat  we  call  modern  history  is  the 
most  pressing  of  all. 

But  I  have  permitted  myself  to  digress  from  the  argu- 
ment. I  w^as  concerned  to  show  that  our  only  chance  of 
tracing  the  movement  and  grasping  the  principles  of  uni- 
versal history  is  to  start  with  the  study  of  the  modern  age 
where  our  material  is  relatively  full,  and  proceed  regress- 
ively  One  great  mistake  of  those  who  have  attempted 
philosophies  of  history  has  been  that  they  began  at  the  other 
end, — not  at  the  beginning,  but  at  whatever  point  their 
know-ledge  happened  to  reach  back  to,  perhaps  in  China, 
perhaps  in  the  Garden  of  Eden, — and  were  consequently 
obliged  to  adopt  a  difficult  and  precarious  synthetic  method. 
Precarious,  because  in  passing  on  from  one  stage  to  another 
there  is  no  guarantee,  owing  to  our  fragmentary  material, 
that  we  have  knowledge  of  all  that  is  significant,  and  there- 
fore the  sythesis  Avhich  expresses  the  transition  to  a  higher 


188  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

stage  may  be  vitiated  by  incompleteness.  We  may  be  ac- 
quainted only  with  some  of  the  forces  which  determine  the 
sequel,  and,  if  we  proceed  as  though  we  had  all  those  forces 
in  our  hands,  our  conception  of  the  sequel  will  be  inadequate. 

On  the  analytic  method,  on  the  contrary,  we  start  from  a 
definite  terminus,  namely  the  present, — contingent  indeed, 
but  not  arbitrary,  since  it  is  the  only  possible  limit  for  the 
given  investigator, — and  in  the  first  stage  we  have  all  the 
material,  so  that  it  is  the  fault  of  the  investigation  and  not 
the  result  of  accident  if  the  analysis  is  not  exhaustive.  The 
problem  then  is,  having  grasped  the  movement  of  the  ideas 
and  spiritual  forces  which  have  revealed  themselves  in  the 
modern  period,  to  trace,  regressively,  the  processes  out  of 
which  they  evolved,  with  the  help  of  our  records.  This,  at 
least,  is  the  ideal  to  which  the  interpreter  would  try  to  ap- 
proximaite.  That,  with  fragmentary  records,  the  whole 
historical  movement  can  ever  be  traced  by  methods  of  in- 
ference, I  do  not  indeed  believe;  but  assuredly  it  is  only  in 
the  period  where  the  records  exist  that  we  can  first  detect 
the  secret  of  the  process  or  begin  to  discern  the  figure  on 
the  carpet. 

But  the  question  will  be  asked :  Can  we  define  absolutely 
the  position  of  the  modern  period  in  the  secular  perspective 
of  history?  The  field  of  what  we  call  "modern  history"  has 
a  roughly  marked  natural  boundary  at  the  point  where  it 
starts,  towards  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century.  We  may 
say  this  without  any  prejudice  to  the  doctrine  of  continuit)\ 
But  the  phrase  is  used  to  cover  all  post-medieval  history, 
and  therefore  the  hither  limit  is  always  shifting.  For 
while  it  is  usual  to  mark  ofif  the  last  thirty  or  forty  years  as 
"contemporary  history,"  as  years  pass  on  the  beginning  of 
"contemporary  history"  moves  forward,  and  the  end  of  the 
modern  as  distinguished  from  the  contemporary  period 
moves  forward  too.     The  question  arises  whether  this  con- 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY        ISO 

ventional  nomenclature  is  any  longer  appropriate,  whether 
all  post-medieval  history  can  be  scientifically  classified  as  a 
period,  with  the  same  right  and  meaning  as  the  Middle 
Ages.  "Ancient  History"  is  of  course  a  merely  conven- 
tional and  convenient,  unscientific  term;  is  this  true  of 
"Modern  History"  also?  It  may  be  thoughi  that  the  an- 
swer is  affirmative.  It  may  seem  probable  that  the  changes 
which  began  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  great 
movements  of  thought  which  have  thrilled  the  nmeteenth 
century,  the  implications  of  the  far-reaching  vistas  of  knowl- 
edge whicli  have  been  opened,  mark  as  new  and  striking  a 
departure  as  any  to  which  our  records  go  back,  and  con- 
stitute a  Neu-zeit  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word;  that  in 
the  nineteenth  as  in  the  sixteenth  century  man  entered  into 
a  new  domain  of  ideas;  that  of  the  nineteenth  as  much  as 
of  the  sixteenth  are  we  justified  in  saying 

Ab  integro  saeclorum  nascitur  ordo. 

If  so,  our  nomenclature  should  be  altered.  The  three  cen- 
turies after  Columbus  should  be  called  by  some  other  name, 
such  as  post-medieval,  and  "mo<^lern"  should  be  appropri- 
ated to  the  period  ushered  in  by  the  French  Revolution  and 
the  formation  of  the  American  Commonwealth,  until  in  turn 
a  new  period  shall  claim  a  name  which  can  never  be  per- 
manently attached.  It  would  follow  that  in  the  Historical 
Department  at  this  Congress,  there  should  be  another  sec- 
tion; the  nineteenth  century,  the  more  modern  modern 
period,  should  have  a  section  to  itself.  In  Germany,  a  dis- 
tinction of  this  kind  has  been  adopted.  The  sixteenth,  seven- 
teenth, and  eighteenth  centuries  are  described  as  die  ncucrc 
Zcit;  while  the  nineteenth  is  distinguished  as  die  neiieste 

Zeit. 

Among  the  notes  which  form  the  stamp  and  signature  of 
this  neneste  Zeit  is  the  new  historical  interest,  if  I  may  say 


190  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

so,  which  has  become  prevalent  in  the  world  and  is  itself  an 
historical  fact  of  supreme  importance.  It  is  expressed  not 
only  in  the  enormous  amount  of  research  that  has  been  done, 
but  in  the  axiom  of  "histor}-  for  its  own  sake,"  and  also  in 
the  attempts  to  create  a  philosophy  of  history.  It  is  a  new 
force  set  free,  which  will  have  its  own  place  in  the  com- 
plex of  the  driving  forces  of  the  world.  It  is  to  be  taken 
along  with  the  equally  recent  development  of  a  conscious- 
ness of  our  relations  to  future  generations,  which  is  prac- 
tically reflected  in  a  growing  sense  of  duty  to  posterity. 
Both  facts  taken  together,  the  interest  in  human  experience 
and  the  interest  in  human  destiny,  represent  a  new  sense  of 
the  solidarity  of  humanity,  linking  past  ages  and  ages  to 
come.  In  other  words,  the  human  mind  has  begim  to  rise 
above  the  immediate  horizon  of  the  circumstances  and  in- 
terests of  the  present  generation,  and  to  realize  seriously, 
not  as  a  mere  object  of  learned  curiosity,  the  significance  of 
the  past  and  the  potentialities  of  the  future.  The  most 
familiar  of  vrords,  past  and  future,  have  become  pregnant 
with  significance;  they  are  charged  with  all  the  implications 
of  a  new  perspective. 

It  is  clear  that  this  new  sense  is  inconsistent  with  the 
affirmation  of  Arnold  and  Seeley  that  contemporary  is 
superior  to  preceding  history  by  all  the  superiority  of  an  end 
to  the  means.  This  doctrine  expresses  the  attitude  of  the 
old  unregenerate  spirit.  The  theoretical  truth  which  it  con- 
tains is  simply  this,  that  contemporary  history  represents  a 
more  advanced  stage  than  any  preceding  it,  or,  in  other 
words,  there  is  a  real  evolution.  But  for  the  same  reason 
it  is  itself  inferior  to  the  development  which  will  succeed 
it;  and  if  past  history  is  to  be  described  as  a  means,  con- 
temporary history  must  be  equally  described  as  a  means,  on 
the  same  ground.  Theoretically,  therefore,  this  teleological 
argument  has  no  application;  it  would  not  become  relevant 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY        191 

till  the  end  of  the  process  has  been  reached.  But  what 
Arnold  and  Seeley  probably  had  most  in  mind  was  the  im- 
portance of  comprehending  the  past  for  the  sake  of  compre- 
hending the  present  for  practical  i)urix)ses.  (This  is  now 
so  fully  understood  and  recognized  that  1  have  not  thought 
it  riecessary  to  dwell  on  it  to-day.  It  is  now  generally 
acknowledged,  by  those  whose  opinion  need  be  considered, 
that  the  practical  value  of  history  consists  not,  as  used  to  be 
thought,  in  lessons  and  example,  but  in  the  fact  that  it  ex- 
plains the  present,  and  that  without  it  the  present,  in  which 
we  have  to  act,  would  be  incomprehensible.  It  is  modern 
history,  of  course,  that  is  here  chiefly  concerned.  Lord 
Acton  said:  "Modern  history  touches  us  so  nearly,  it  is 
so  deep  a  question  of  life  and  death,  that  we  are  bound  to 
find  our  own  way  through  it,  and  to  owe  our  insight  to  our- 
selves." I  venture  to  think  that  Lord  Acton,  in  this  charac- 
teristic statement,  rather  strains  the  note;  but  the  statement 
concerns,  you  observe,  the  practical  not  the  theoretical  value 
of  the  subject.) 

To  attempt  to  define  absolutely  the  significance  of  modern 
or  recent  history  in  the  order  of  development  would  be  to 
fall  into  an  error  like  that  for  which  I  criticised  Hegel  and 
Krause  and  others  who  thought  to  draw  forth  Leviathan 
with  a  hook.  It  is  much  if  it  can  be  established,  as  I  think 
it  can,  that  with  the  nineteenth  century  the  curtain  has  risen 
on  a  new  act  in  the  drama.  But  we  can  be  more  confident 
in  asserting  negatives.  The  ideas  and  forces  which  have 
driven  man  through  the  last  four  hundred  years  and  are 
driving  him  now,  are  not  the  last  words  or  dooms  in  the 
progress  of  reason.  The  idea  of  freedom  which  the  modern 
world  has  struggled  to  realize  has  been  deemed  by  many  the 
ultima  linea  rerum;  but  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  or  why  it 
should  be  final,  in  the  sense  of  not  being  superseded  by  the 
appearance  of  higher  ideas  which  its  realization  shall  have 


192  MODERN  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE 

enabled  to  emerge.  Or  again,  it  is  unreasonable  to  suppose 
that  the  idea  of  nationality  which  has  recently  played  and 
still  plays  a  great  role,  is  an  end  in  itself  or  more  than  a 
phase  in  evolution.  We  must  acquiesce  in  our  incompetence 
to  form  any  scientific  judgment  as  to  the  value  or  position 
of  this  stage  in  the  total  development. 

To  state  briefly  the  main  thesis  of  this  paper.  The  ansv^^er 
to  the  question,  "What  is  the  position  of  modern  history  in 
the  domain  of  universal  knowledge?"  depends  in  the  first 
instance  on  our  ^'iew  of  the  fundamental  philosophical  ques- 
tion at  issue  between  idealism  and  naturalism.  If  we  are 
believers  in  naturalism,  then  all  history,  including  modern 
history,  has  its  sole  theoretical  value  in  the  function  of  pro- 
viding material  for  the  investigation  of  sociological  laws. 
It  must  accept  a  position  such  as  Comte  assigns  to  it.  But 
if  we  are  idealists,  if  we  hold  that  thought  is  a  presupposi- 
tion of  physical  existence  and  not  a  function  of  matter,  then 
history  as  a  disclosure  of  the  evolution  of  thought  has  an 
independent  realm  of  its  own  and  demands  a  distinct  inter- 
pretation, to  prepare  for  which  is  the  aim  of  historical  re- 
search. The  segment  of  history  which  we  call  modern, 
from  the  sixteenth  century  onward,  occupies  a  peculiar  place, 
because  here,  partly  in  consequence  of  the  invention  of 
printing,  our  materials  begin  to  be  adequate  for  a  complete 
analysis.  This  gives  us  the  theoretical  significance  of  the 
modern  period  as  an  object  of  study ;  it  is  the  field  in  which 
we  may  hope  to  charm  from  human  history  the  secret  of 
its  rational  movement,  detect  its  logic,  and  win  a  glimpse  of 
a  fragment  of  the  pattern  on  a  carpet,  of  which  probably 
much  the  greater  part  is  still  unwoven. 

This  Congress  is  suggestive  in  many  w-ays,  suggestive 
especially  of  the  distance  the  world  has  traveled  since  1804 
or  since  1854.  There  will  be  many  more  of  its  kind;  but 
this  is  unique  as  the  first.     It  is  not  very  bold  to  predict  that 


THE  PLACE  OF  MODERN  HISTORY        193 

historians  of  the  distant  future,  in  tracing  the  growth  of 
cooperation  and  tendencies  to  a  federation  of  liuman  effort, 
which  are  one  of  the  transformative  influences  now  affecting 
mankind,  will  record  this  Congress  in  which  we  are  here 
met  together  as  a  significant  point  in  this  particular  stage  of 
man's  progress  toward  his  unknown  destiny. 


THE  RELATION  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY  TO 
OTHER  FIELDS  OF  HISTORICAL  STUDY. 

BY   EDWARD  GAYLORD   BOURNE 

[Edward  Gaylord  Bourne,  Professor  of  History,  Yale  University 
since  1895.  b.  June  24,  1860,  Stryltersville,  New  Yorit.  B.a! 
Yale,  1883;  Ph.D.  ibid.,  1892.  Lecturer  on  Political  Science  and 
Instructor  in  History,  Yale  University,  1886-88;  Instructor  in 
History,  Adelbert  College,  1888-90;  Professor  of  History,  ibid. 
1890-95;  Professor  of  History,  Yale  University,  1895 .  Mem- 
ber of  Council  of  American  Historical  Association;  Member  of 
American  Antiquarian  Society;  Corresponding  Member  of  the 
Massachusetts  Historical  Society.  Author  ok  History  of  the 
Surplus  Revenue  of  1837;  Essays  in  Historical  Criticism:  Spain 
in  America;  Historical  Introduction  to  "The  Philippine  Islands" ; 
Editor  of  Narratives  of  Hernando  de  Soto;  Voyages  and  Explora- 
tions of  Champlain.] 

Ladies  and  Gentlemen  : — The  subject  assigned  for  the 
second  paper  this  morning  is  the  Relation  of  American  His- 
tory to  Other  Fields  of  Historical  Study,  and  the  officers 
of  the  Congress  had  most  appropriately  selected  Professor 
Hart  of  Harvard  University  to  discuss  this  theme.  That 
he  has  found  it  impracticable  to  be  here  owing  to  a  pressure 
of  other  work  is  to  be  regretted  for  many  reasons.  It  was, 
indeed,  most  fitting  that  the  institution  which  was  the 
pioneer  in  this  country  in  developing  systematic  historical 
studies  as  a  part  of  its  curriculum,  and  which  is  still  the 
leader  in  that  work,  should  be  represented  at  this  gathering; 
nor  was  it  less  suitable  that  the  man  to  represent  Harvard 
and  the  study  of  American  history  should  be  the  one  upon 
whom  as  an  organizer  of  historical  labors  has  fallen  the 
mantle  of  Justin  Winsor. 

In  our  common  usage,  the  content  of  the  term  American 
history  embraces  the  history  of  the  discovery  of  the  New 
World,  a  most  cursory  glance  at  the  Spanish  Conquest,  the 
colonization  of  the  eastern  coast  by  the  English,  the  Amer- 

195 


196  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

ican  Revolution,  and  the  political  history  of  the  United 
States.  Such  a  restriction  of  meaning  is  a  natural  out- 
growth of  circumstances  in  this  country. 

In  this  place,  however,  near  the  centre  of  the  continent 
first  explored  by  the  Spaniards,  on  the  great  river  discov- 
ered by  De  Soto,  and  not  so  very  many  hours'  ride  from  a 
point  reached  by  Coronado  from  the  shores  of  the  Pacific 
over  three  hundred  and  sixty  years  ago,  so  narrow  a  con- 
struction of  American  history  may  rightly  give  way  to  one 
which  assigns  to  the  Spanish  American  world  a  position 
more  truly  in  accord  with  its  real  historical  significance  in 
the  history  of  the  race.  It  is  the  relation  of  American  his- 
tory in  the  broader  sense,  the  history  of  the  activities  and 
achievements  of  Europeans  in  the  New  World,  to  the 
history  of  Europe  and  the  history  of  the  United  States,  to 
which  I  invite  your  attention. 

In  reflecting  upon  this  subject,  my  thoughts  have  grouped 
themselves  around  four  general  inquiries :  What  should  be 
the  attitude  of  the  student  of  European  history  to  American 
history?  what  does  American  history  contribute  to  the 
interpretation  of  European  history?  in  what  ways  has 
America  affected  the  development  of  European  life?  and, 
lastly,  what  advantages  may  be  derived  in  the  United  States 
and  in  Europe  from  a  more  thorough  investigation  and  a 
more  general  study  of  the  history  of  Spanish  America? 

In  regard  to  the  first  part  of  my  subject,  the  proper  atti- 
tude of  students  of  European  history  toward  American  his- 
tory, I  wish  to  urge  a  more  general  recognition  of  American 
history  as  an  integral  part  of  the  history  of  the  Western 
European  peoples ;  in  other  words,  that  the  history  of  Spain, 
France,  and  England  should  embrace  the  history  of  the 
Spanish,  French,  and  English  communities  in  the  New 
World  as  a  natural  and  essential  part  of  the  whole  and  not 
as  a  mere  episode  that  may  be  neglected.     In  the  study  and 


RELATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      197 

writing  of  English  history  this  point  of  view  lias  been  more 
adequately  realized  than  in  the  case  of  France  and  Spain. 
The  considerations  that  would  he  urged  to  prove  the  essen- 
tial unity  of  the  history  of  the  English  on  both  sides  of  the 
sea  are  familiar  to  all  students,  and  need  not  be  recapitu- 
lated. The  case  of  France  I  shall  pass  by,  in  order  to  illus- 
trate that  of  Spain  and  Spanish  America  more  fully. 

It  is  a  not  uncommon  experience,  although  notable  excep- 
tions exist,  to  find  in  narrative  histories  of  Spain  her  in- 
terests in  the  New  World  treated  incidentally,  if  at  all. 
rather  than  regarded  as  an  integral  element  of  profound 
importance  in  the  national  life.  Among  recent  examples  of 
this  procedure,  one  will  suffice  for  illustration.  In  Martin 
Hume's  Spain,  its  Greatness  and  Decay,  in  the  Cambridge 
Historical  Series,  there  are  in  the  period  1555-17S8,  covered 
by  Major  Hume's  part  of  the  work,  not  two  pages  devoted 
to  the  Spanish  possessions  beyond  the  sea.  Such  a  nar- 
row, territorial  view  is  devoid  of  any  philosophical  perspec- 
tive, and  is  a  veritable  impoverishment  of  history.  In  the 
light  of  general  history,  the  Spanish  conquest  of  America  is 
the  greatest,  the  most  far-reaching  in  its  consequences,  of 
all  the  achievements  in  the  life  of  the  nation.  It  is  the 
single  event  in  Spanish  history  that  made  Spain  a  world 
power,  and  raised  her  for  a  time  to  a  place  beside  Rome  as 
the  mistress  of  a  world  and  the  source  of  the  moral,  re- 
lisfious,  and  intellectual  culture  of  a  continent.  To  write 
the  history  of  Spain  and  to  leave  out  the  history  of  Spanish 
America  is  like  writing  the  history  of  Rome  and  confining 
one's  view  to  the  Italian  peninsula.  The  power  of  Spain 
has  lapsed  and  most  of  her  former  over-sea  possessions  arc 
independent  states,  but  whatever  becomes  of  her  relative 
position  in  Europe,  her  great  contribution  to  the  world's 
history  is  certain  to  rise  in  historical  importance  with  the 
passage  of  time. 


198  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

I  am  aware  that  these  assertions  will  surprise  some  and 
perhaps  be  dismissed  by  others  as  extravagant.  I  propose, 
however,  to  elaborate  them  somewhat,  to  bring  home  per- 
haps more  effectively  my  point  of  the  essential  oneness  of 
American  and  Western  European  history. 

What,  in  fact,  did  Spain  attempt  in  the  New  World  and 
what  did  she  accomplish?  She  undertook  the  magnificent 
if  impossible  task  of  lifting  a  whole  race  numbering  millions 
into  the  sphere  of  European  thought,  life,  and  religion. 
Beside  such  an  enterprise  the  continental  wars  of  Spain  be- 
come struggles  of  transitory  interest.  But  I  am  reminded 
that  she  failed.  Such  is  the  ready  verdict  that  is  pro- 
nounced in  accordance  with  prevalent  opinion.  But  even  if 
the  attempt  was  in  some  degree  a  failure,  it  was  a  failure 
after  the  fashion  of  the  failure  of  Alexander  the  Great  to 
establish  a  permanent  Asiatic  Empire,  a  failure  that  has  left 
an  ineffaceable  impress  on  succeeding  ages. 

Yet  the  conception  was  grand,  and  the  effort  to  realize  it 
called  forth  the  best  that  was  in  the  men  who  labored  either 
consciously  or  unconsciously  for  its  accomplishment.  Like 
all  great  events  in  human  history  it  has  its  dark  sides,  and 
unfortunately  these  dark  sides,  through  the  influence  of 
national  jealousy  and  religious  prejudice,  have  commonly 
been  thrust  into  the  foreground  by  non-Spanish  writers. 

The  great  permanent  fact  remains,  however,  after  all 
qualifications,  that  during  the  colonial  period  the  Innguage, 
the  religion,  the  culture,  and  the  political  institutions  of 
Castile  were  transplanted  over  an  area  twenty  times  as  great 
as  that  of  the  parent  state.  That  this  culture  and  religion 
.seem  to  the  English  Protestant  inferior  to  his  own  is 
natural ;  but  while  that  opinion  accounts  for  some  of  the 
prevalent  disparagement  of  the  work  of  Spain  in  America. 
its  truth  or  falsity  is  not  relevant  to  the  present  question. 
The  essential  point  is  that,  outside  of  the  fields  of  art  and 


REXATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      19!) 

literature,  the  great  contributions  that  Sixain  made  to  human 
progress  in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries  were 
made  in  America.  In  such  contributions  to  the  stock  of 
knowledge  as  are  derived  from  observation  in  distinction 
from  those  obtained  by  si>eculative  thought,  she  far  sur- 
passed France  and  England.  Immense  additions  to  geo- 
graphy, lo  linguistics,  to  anthropology,  flowed  from  the 
activities  of  her  explorers  and  scholars.  Nor  were  the 
additions  to  the  national  literature  that  took  their  rise  in  the 
New  World  slight  accessions  to  the  general  body  of  litera- 
ture informed  with  the  spirit  of  heroic  action.  The  dis- 
patches of  Cortes,  the  True  History  of  Bernal  Diaz,  may 
fairly  claim  consideration  beside  Cesar's  Commentaries. 
Nor  can  one  read  the  story  of  De  Soto's  march,  as  told  by 
the  Gentlemen  of  Elvas  or  Rodrigo  Ranjel  in  the  pages  of 
Oviedo,  without  continually  recalling  the  classic  narrative 
of  the  retreat  of  the  ten  thousand  Greeks  from  Cunaxa  to 
the  Euxine. 

Enough  has  been  said,  perhaps,  to  raise  a  presumption 
for  regarding  the  history  of  Spanish  America  as  an  in- 
tegral part  of  the  history  of  Spain,  but  its  importance  for 
the  study  of  Spanish  history  does  not  end  here.  The  work 
of  Spain  in  the  New  World,  defective  as  it  was  and  adul- 
terated with  selfish  aims,  ofifered  an  extraordinary  field  for 
the  display  of  national  and  individual  character.  The  mod- 
ern world  can  have  little  sympathy  with  the  controlling 
objects  of  Spanish  policy  in  European  politics  in  the  second 
half  of  the  sixteenth  century.  Philip  II  in  Spain  seems 
to  be  putting  forth  herculean  efforts  to  stay  human  prog- 
ress. In  the  Indies  he  shows  a  fairer  figure.  The  colonial 
legislation  of  his  reign,  whatever  its  defects,  reveals  a 
profound  and  humane  interest  in  the  civilization  of  his 
over-sea  dominions.  It  was  one  thing  to  try  to  confine 
Europe  to  the  intellectual  bounds  of  the  Middle  Ages  and 


200  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

quite  another  to  rai-se  primitive  America  to  that  level.  The 
long  arm  of  the  king  was  stretched  out  to  protect  the  weak 
and  the  helpless  from  oppression  and  from  error.  It  did 
not  always  do  it,  but  the  honor  of  the  effort  should  not  be 
withheld.  The  contrast  between  Philip  II  as  ruler  of  the 
Netherlands  and  the  Philip  II  who  was  lord  of  the  Indies 
may  be  paralleled  by  the  contrast  between  the  Duke  of 
Alva  and  Hernando  Cortes.  The  conqueror  of  Mexico 
is  the  more  universally  known  of  the  two,  but  the  name 
of  no  Spanish  general  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  more 
familiar  in  England  and  America  than  that  of  Alva.  That 
Alva  should  be  popularly  considered  as  a  type  of  Spanish 
character,  and  that  he  should  occupy  a  larger  place  in  his- 
tories of  the  Spanish  people  than  Cortes,  will  seem  unfor- 
tunate, and  unjust  in  exact  proportion  as  the  varied  great- 
ness of  Cortes's  career  is  appreciated.  How  one-sided, 
then,  is  a  national  history  which  finds  no  adequate  recog- 
nition for  the  nation's  greatest  achievements  just  because 
the  field  of  their  accomplishment  was  beyond  the  sea! 

If  these  considerations  in  regard  to  the  history  of  Spain 
and  of  Spanish  America  are  well  taken,  the  essential  one- 
ness of  American  and  Western  European  history  may  be 
granted  at  least  the  status  of  a  fair  presumption,  and  I 
may  pass  to  the  next  line  of  inquiry,  What  does  Ameri- 
can history  contribute  to  the  interpretation  of  European 
history  ? 

The  occupation  of  the  New  World  by  the  divergent 
methods  of  Spanish  and  English  colonial  policy  repeated 
processes  of  profound  importance  in  the  history  of  civiliza- 
tion in  regard  to  which  we  have  comparatively  little  evi- 
dence. The  migration  of  the  English  to  America  was  like 
the  diffusion  of  the  Greeks  to  their  colonies,  and  not  a 
few  of  the  distinctive  features  of  American  life  and  tem- 
perament that  have  been  noted  by  foreign  observers  were 


RELATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      201 

equally  characteristic  of  the  Greek  colonial  societies  in 
Sicily  and  Italy:  the  pride  in  big  things;  the  fondness  for 
the  florid  in  literature,  art,  and  oratory;  the  absorption  in 
material  interests;  the  self-confidence  and  the  boastfulness. 

The  new  conditions  facing  these  I^nglish  on  the  frontiers 
of  their  settlements,  in  the  conquest  from  nature  of  a  home 
for  civilized  man,  compelled  a  readjustment  of  life  to  its 
surroundings,  a  simple  and  elastic  organization  of  society 
in  which  the  earlier  life  of  Europe  was  lived  over  again. 
As  time  went  on,  the  frontier  was  pushed  further  out.  and 
in  the  older  settlements  society  l)ecame  more  complex  and 
conventional,  approaching  the  stability  of  the  mother  coun- 
try. The  thought  is  a  familiar  one  that  on  the  frontier  we 
have  been  able  to  recover  the  conditions  of  colonial  history, 
and  in  recovering  these  conditions  breathe  again  its  atmos- 
phere. America,* then,  has  offered  the  student  the  singular 
opportunity  of  observing  successive  periods  of  historical 
and  social  development  existing  almost  sid^  by  side,  so 
that  one  could  lift  the  veil  of  the  past  by  going  west.  This 
thought,  which  has  been  so  richly  developed  and  illustrated 
by  Professor  Turner,^  was  first  fully  realized,  so  far  as  I 
know,  by  that  acute  Frenchman  Talleyrand  when  sojourn- 
ing in  America.  I  shall  take  the  liberty  to  quote  his  ob- 
servations, on  the  chance  of  contributing  to  the  history 
of  one  of  the  most  fertile  and  instructive  contributions  ever 
made  to  the  interpretation  of  American  history.  In  his 
memoir  on  The  C ommercial  Relations  of  the  United  States 
zvith  England,  read  before  the  Academy  of  Moral  and 
Political  Sciences,  March  25,  1797,  he  says: 

"Let  us  look  at  these  populous  cities,  full  of  English- 
men, Germans,  Irishmen,  and  Dutchmen,  and  also  of  the 
native  inhabitants;  these  remote  hamlets,  so  far  from  one 


I  In  his  Significance  of  the  Frontier  in  American  History,  State  HiBtorlcal  So- 
ciety of  Wiaconstn,  1894,  and  other  papers. 


202  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

another;  these  vast  untilled  stretches  of  country,  traversed 
rather  than  hved  in  by  men  who  have  no  settled  home; 
what  common  tie  is  there  to  bind  together  what  is  so 
unhke?  It  is  a  novel  sight  for  tlie  traveler  who,  starting 
from  a  leading  town  where  the  social  order  is  matured  and 
settled,  passes  over  in  succession  all  the  stages  of  civiliza- 
tion and  industry  as  they  descend  until  in  a  very  few  days 
he  comes  to  the  crude  and  shapeless  cabin  built  of  freshly 
felled  trees.  Such  a  journey  is  a  kind  of  practical  analysis 
and  living  demonstration  of  the  growth  of  peoples  and  of 
states.  One  starts  from  a  highly  complex  total  and  reaches 
the  simplest  elements.  Day  by  day  one  after  another  of 
those  inventions  which  our  multiplying  wants  ha\'e  made 
necessary  disappears,  and  one  seems  to  be  traveling  back- 
ward in  the  history  of  the  progress  of  the  human  mind."^ 

Other  ways  in  which  in  American  history  the  processes 
of  the  remote  past  have  been  reproduced  can  be  studied 
in  the  history  of  Spanish  America,  where  the  conquest  of 
organized  societies  by  alien  invaders  and  the  bringing  in 
of  a  new  civilization  help  us  to  visualize  the  process  by 
which  Africa  became  Roman  or  Syria  Greek.  Still  again 
the  Spanish  missions,  which  from  California  to  Paraguay 
pushed  out  among  the  wild  Indians  and  prepared  them  for 
civilized  life,  will  help  us  to  see  more  clearly  the  processes 
by  which  Christianity  made  its  way  slowly  into  the  recesses 
of  Germanic  and  Slavonic  heathenism. 

There  is  still  another  way  in  which  the  American  colonial 
communities  offer  instruction  to  the  student  of  European 
history.  By  their  detachment  from  the  main  currents  of 
progress  they  formed,  as  it  were,  eddies  in  which  were 
preserved,  still  in  vigorous  life,  much  that  had  quite  dis- 


'*■  Mimoiri  sur  lea  relations  commerciales  dea  Etata-Unis  arec  V Angletcrre ; 
1l6moirca  de  I'Institut  National  dea  Sciencea  et  Arts;  Sciencea  Moralea  et  Poli- 
tiques,  Paris,  An  vii,  t.  n,  p.  100. 


RELATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      203 

appeared  in  more  progressive  centres,  and  in  this  respect 
they  may  be  said  to  serve  as  a  kind  of  historical  museum. 

The  rigorous  sifting  of  emigration  from  Spain  and  its 
prohibition  from  other  countries,  coupled  with  a  close 
censorship  of  the  press,  preserved  in  Spanish  America 
relatively  undisturbed  the  thought,  the  life,  and  the  man- 
ners of  Spain  just  as  she  emerged  from  the  Middle  Ages. 
Nearly  forty  years  after  Luther  posted  his  theses  the  name 
Lutheran  conveyed  no  meaning  to  the  people  of  Mexico. 
The  first  auto  da  fe  in  that  city  in  1556  aroused  the  great- 
est curiosity,  and  the  English  merchant  Tomson  reported 
that  "  there  were  that  came  one  hundredth  mile  off,  to  see 
the  said  Auto  (as  they  call  it),  for  that  there  were  never 
none  before,  that  had  done  the  like  in  the  said  country, 
nor  could  not  tell  what  Lutherans  were,  nor  what  it  meant ; 
for  that  they  never  heard  of  any  such  thing  before."^  The 
effects  of  a  similar  policy  survive  to  the  present  day  in 
French  Canada,  wdiere  one  can  still  observe  the  piety  of 
pre-Reformation  Europe. 

In  like  manner,  Puritanism  dominated  New  England 
over  a  century  after  its  sway  was  broken  in  the  mother 
country.  The  English  traveler  who  came  to  Boston  in 
1692  not  only  crossed  the  Atlantic  but  he  went  back  in 
time  a  half  a  century.  Such  a  tragedy  as  the  witchcraft 
trials  would  have  been  impossible  in  England  in  1692, 
although  in  perfect  accord  with  the  spirit  and  beliefs  of 
the  time  of  the  Long  Parliament  and  the  Commonwealth. 
In  fact,  the  good  and  evil  of  English  Puritanism  are 
nowhere  so  marked  as  in  New  England.  There  it  was 
segregated,  dominant,  and  lived  out  its  life. 

I  proposed  as  the  third  subdivision  of  my  subject  to 
indicate  some  of  the  ways  in  which  America  has  affected 
European  life  by  reaction.     In  the  ample  scope  of  the  New 

iHakluyt,  Voyages   (Goldsmid's  ed.),  xvi,  146. 


204  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

W'orld  the  dominant  currents  of  national  life  found  an 
outlet  for  a  less  confined  flow,  and  tendencies  restrained 
or  impeded  at  home  from  free  action  were  released.  The 
Spanish  and  French  colonial  estahlishments  were  founded 
at  a  time  when  the  Crown  was  aiming  to  extend  and  sys- 
tematize its  powers,  and  in  the  New  World,  unhampered 
by  traditions  and  usages,  it  became  all  powerful.  The 
tendency  to  absolutism  at  home  was  effectively  reinforced 
by  the  exercise  of  it  in  the  dependencies.  England,  on  the 
other  hand,  began  the  continuous  occupation  of  America 
when  the  current  was  in  the  opposite  direction  and  the  tide 
was  slowly  rising  against  the  royal  authority,  and  here  again 
the  national  drift  was  accelerated.  The  large  measure  of 
local  liberties  enjoyed  by  the  English  colonies,  the  free  mi- 
gration of  sects,  were  quite  as  much  the  result  of  the  actual 
condition  of  English  politics  at  the  time  as  of  preconceived 
convictions.  Settled  under  these  circumstances  and  left 
mainly  to  themselves,  the  colonies  became  the  field  for 
working  out  social  experiments  which  would  have  been 
impossible  in  Europe,  and  whose  successful  issue  has  pro- 
foundly influenced  all  after-life. 

The  most  signal  instance  of  this  is  afforded  by  the  history 
of  religioas  toleration.  In  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth 
centuries  it  was  a  widespread  and  deeply  rooted  opinion 
that  religious  liberty  would  undermine  society.  The  social 
dangers  of  free  thought  far  outweighed  what  seem  to  many 
to-day  the  economic  perils  of  free  trade.  That  they  were 
real  dangers  seemed  to  be  unhappily  proved  by  the  aberra- 
tions of  the  Reformation  in  Europe.  If  abstract  reasoning 
makes  little  headway  to-day  in  the  matter  of  securing  free 
trade,  we  may  imagine  how  impotent  arguments  in  favor 
of  free  thought  must  have  been.  The  risks  of  failure  were 
too  great  for  the  experiment  to  be  tried.  In  America, 
however,  an  opportunity  was  offered  through  the  institu- 


RELATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      205 

tion  of  the  proprietary  colonies  for  a  thorough  trial,  which 
demonstrated  on  a  considerable  scale  the  safety  and  ad- 
vantage of  a  larger  measure  of  religious  liberty.  For  a 
colonial  proprietor  or  company  to  derive  any  profit,  his 
lands  must  be  sold  or  rented.  To  get  people  was  the  first 
need,  and  the  strongest  inducements  must  be  offered.  In 
the  seventeenth  century  the  prospect  of  religious  freedom 
made  a  powerful  appeal  both  in  England  and  Germany. 
The  experiment  w^as  first  tried  by  Lord  Baltimore  in  Mary- 
land, and  its  demonstrated  success  w-as  followed  by  its 
adoption  by  the  proprietors  of  the  Carolinas  and  Jerseys 
for  utilitarian  reasons.  The  harmlessness  and  advantages 
of  religious  toleration  were  effectively  demonstrated  in 
Colonial  America,  principally  in  the  proprietary  colonies. 
It  spread  from  these  till  it  became  characteristic  of  the 
United  States,  and  from  that  vantage-ground  so  imposing 
an  example  of  its  benefits,  powerfully  contributed  to  its 
adoption  throughout  Western  Europe.  Who  can  affirm 
that  religious  liberty  with  its  enormous  increment  to  ordi- 
nary human  happiness  could  have  been  attained  even  in  the 
twentieth  century,  without  the  lesson  of  die  experiments 
in  Maryland  and  Rhode  Island,  the  Carolinas,  the  Jerseys, 
New  York  and  Pennsylvania? 

Still  again,  in  America  the  theories  of  Locke  seemed  to 
explain  the  facts  of  society,  and  became  the  people's  poli- 
tical creed.  Incorporated  in  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence and  the  State  Bills  of  Rights,  these  principles  exerted 
an  infinitely  greater  force  uix)n  France,  and  through  France 
upon  Europe  and  South  America,  than  could  by  any  pos- 
siblity  have  flowed  directly  from  the  Tzvo  Essays  on  Gov- 
ernment. It  is  needless  here  to  expatiate  upon  so  familiar 
a  topic  as  the  rise  of  democracy  in  America  and  its  dif- 
fusion from  these  shores,  or  upon  the  development  of 
written    constitutions    and    their    spread    over    the    world, 


206  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

after  the  most  interesting  contributions  of  Borgeaud  to 
those  subjects. 

Passing  now  to  my  concluding  thought,  I  shall  try  to 
point  out  certain  advantages  to  be  derived  from  a  more 
adequate  study  of  the  history  of  Spanish  America. 

Our  colonial  history  in  the  past  has  too  rarely  emerged 
from  a  narrow  provincialism,  and  even  now  it  often  tends 
to  sink  to  ancestor  worship.  If  a  departure  was  made  from 
the  narrow  track  of  colonial  annals,  it  generally  consisted 
in  conventional  comments  on  the  Spanish  cruelties  and 
thirst  for  gold  and  the  superior  wisdom  and  natural 
capacity  of  the  English  race  for  colonization,  with  little 
or  no  attempt  at  discriminating  comparison  between  the 
two  types  of  colonial  enterprise. 

More  broadly  conceived,  the  study  of  the  European 
colonization  of  America  becomes  the  investigation  of  one 
of  the  great  instances  of  the  transmission  of  culture  in 
hum^n  history,  that  process  by  which  the  social,  intellectual, 
and  rtligious  acquisitions  of  one  people  are  transmitted 
or  imposed  upon  another,  which  is  thereby  lifted  to  a  higher 
stage  of  civilization.  The  conquests  of  Alexander  spread 
Greek  culture  far  beyond  the  boundaries  of  Greek  coloniza- 
tion ;  through  the  expansion  of  Rome  the  science  of  Greece, 
the  jurisprudence  of  Rome,  and  the  Christian  religion 
became  the  common  possession  of  the  ancient  world; 
through  the  Norman  conquest  England  was  brought  into 
intimate  political  and  social  relations  with  the  Continent 
and  shared  more  fully  the  heritage  of  Rome.  At  the  time 
of  the  Renaissance  Italy  was  the  teacher  of  Europe  in 
literature,  art,  politics,  and  manners;  and  the  vivifying 
influences  flowing  from  that  country  fertilized  the  intel- 
lectual soil  of  Germany.  France,  and  England.  During 
the  reign  of  Louis  XIV,  France,  in  turn,  became  the  arbiter 
of  manners  and   set  the  fashion   for  literary   and   artistic 


RELATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      207 

eflfort.  Early  in  the  eighteenth  century  the  stream  set  in 
from  England,  when  the  results  of  the  Spanish  Succession 
War  had  raised  her  to  the  position  of  the  first  power  in 
Europe,  and  in  France  in  particular  keen  curiosity  was 
aroused  in  English  thought  and  literature. 

The  American  Revolution  in  a  measure  shifted  the 
centre  of  interest  across  the  Atlantic,  and  American  poli- 
tical ideas  and  methods  became  a  powerful  leaven  in 
France,  where  the  French  Revolution  gave  them  a  uni- 
versal hearing  and  sent  forth  transforming  influences  in 
every  direction.  Each  one  of  these  shifting  currents  of 
cultural  influences  constitutes  a  rich  field  of  study.  The 
analysis  of  its  parts,  the  processes  by  which  its  work  was 
done,  the  relative  degree  of  permanence  of  the  results,  all 
these  constitute  fascinating  problems   for  the  historian. 

If  we  approach  American  history  from  this  point  of 
view  and  make  it  the  study  of  the  transmission  of  the 
culture  of  Western  Europe  to  a  new  and  larger  field  of 
development,  we  find  ourselves  engaged  in  the  investiga- 
tion of  a  most  momentous  movement  in  the  history  of 
civilization,  truly  comparable  to  Alexander's  Asiatic  empire 
and  to  Rome's  African  and  Western  European  dominion. 
For  the  youthful  student  or  for  the  maturer  investigator 
such  a  comparative  study  of  the  Spanish,  French,  and 
English  colonization  is  rich  in  instruction.  It  will  not  only 
broaden  his  conceptions  of  American  history  but  throw  a 
new  light  on  the  history  of  Europe. 

There  are  few  fields  better  adapted  for  the  comparative 
study  of  the  spirit,  the  capacities,  and  the  character  of  these 
great  peoples ;  nor  is  it  easy  to  find  one  where  the  economic 
and  the  human  factors  which  shaped  the  course  of  history 
can  be  more  easily  segregated  and  estimated.  Such  a  study 
calls  first  for  a  survey  of  the  economic  and  social  conditions 
of  the  mother  country,  for  a  clear  grasp  of  what  it  aimed 


208  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

to  do,  and  of  the  physical  conditions  in  the  New  World 
which  worked  for  or  against  those  objects.  Yet  a  word  of 
caution  is  to  be  uttered  against  beginning  with  the  com- 
parison of  New  Spain  and  Massachusetts,  for  almost  all 
the  condiiions  determining  the  character  of  these  com- 
munities were  very  different.  Far  more  suitable  is  a  com- 
parison of  New  Spain  and  British  India,  for  there  you 
have  two  imperial  systems  im^-^sed  upon  a  mass  of  native 
populations,  and  a  certain  broad  similarity  at  the  start.  If 
it  is  once  realized  that  British  India  and  not  Massachusetts 
is  to  be  compared  with  the  vice-royalties  of  New  Spain 
and  of  Peru,  the  emptiness  of  many  a  generalization  about 
the  Spanish  and  English  colonial  systems  is  apparent.  The 
proper  physical  starting-point  for  such  a  comparative  study 
is  the  West  Indies.  In  the  West  Indies  the  Spanish, 
French,  and  English  met  on  equal  grounds,  and  the  com- 
parison between  Cuba,  Hayti,  and  Jamaica  is  sound  and 
instructive.  It  is  a  fruitful  inquiry  to  examine  how  these 
three  peoples  managed  the  problems  of  a  plantation  colony 
with  slave  labor;  nor  is  it  less  interesting  to  compare  the 
results  of  their  respective  policies  since  the  abolition  of 
slavery.  A  comparison  between  the  respective  slave  codes 
of  the  Spanish,  French,  and  the  English  colonies  is  some- 
what disconcerting  to  the  student  of  English  blood,  whose 
knowledge  of  Spanish  policy  has  been  colored  by  some  echo 
of  Las  Casas'  denunciations  of  the  early  conqidstadores. 
If  the  comparison  is  extended  to  the  criminal  legislation  in  , 
force  in  Ihe  colonies  of  these  nations,  one  is  again  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  that  whatever  merits  are  accorded 
to  the  English  system  superior  humaneness  is  not  one 
of  them. 

After  such  an  introductory  study  we  may  appropriately 
compare  some  phases  of  Mexico  with  New  England,  always 
keeping  in  mind,  however,  in  the  case  of  Mexico,  the  in- 


RELATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      209 

fluence  of  a  climate  like  the  Rocky  Mountain  Plateau,  t)f 
the  rich  stores  of  the  precious  metals,  and  of  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  native  stocks. 

If  after  this  comparison  we  apply  the  same  process  to 
the  history  of  La  Plata  region  and  of  the  Mississippi  Val- 
ley, certain  things  stand  out  clearly  which  may  be  briefly 
noted.  The  stupendous  economic  development  of  these 
vast  agricultural  regions  has  been  possible  only  since  the 
application  of  steam  to  industry  and  transportation.  This 
great  factor  which  has  revolutionized  the  relative  advan- 
tages of  Argentina  and  Peru,  and  enabled  Buenos  Ayres 
to  become  the  greatest  city  in  the  Spanish  American  world, 
has  in  the  same  way  enormously  increased  the  disparities 
between  Mexico  and  the  United  States.  A  comparison  of 
these  two  communities  before  the  entrance  of  this  factor 
shows  that  in  more  than  one  respect  New  Spain  was  in 
advance  of  New  England.  This  is  true  in  regard  to  the 
prosecution  of  higher  scientific  studies,  the  establishment 
of  the  institutions  of  charity,  libraries,  art,  and  architec- 
ture: in  a  word,  in  those  features  characteristic  of  the  life 
of  a  wealthy  community. 

I  have  referred  to  the  Spanish  treatment  of  inferior  or 
dependent  races,  and  intimated  that  it  compares  favorably 
as  a  whole  with  the  contemporary  treatment  accorded  to 
such  dependents  by  the  English  colonists.  The  belief,  of 
course,  is  widely  prevalent  that  the  story  of  Spanish  Indian 
policy  was  merely  the  tragedy  of  devastation ;  but  that  view 
is  profoundly  mistaken.  Its  origin  is  found  in  the  curious 
fact  that  national  jealousies  of  Spain  three  centuries  and 
more  ago  gave  an  enormous  circulation  in  the  various 
languages  of  Western  Europe  to  the  impassioned  appeals 
of  Las  Casas  for  the  protection  of  the  natives.  To  depict 
the  Indian  policy  of  Spain  from  the  pages  of  Las  Casas 
would  be  like  drawing  the  history  of  Southern  slavery  from 


210  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

the  columns  of  the  Liberator  and  multiplying  the  instances 
by  ten.  The  Indians  owed  much  to  Las  Casas  and  history 
owes  him  much,  but  he  apparently  felt  that  boundless  ex- 
aggeration in  a  righteous  cause  could  do  no  harm  and 
might  do  good.  If  we  take  the  confidential  report  of  Juan 
and  Ulloa  to  the  King  of  Spain  in  the  eighteenth  century 
as  to  conditions  in  Peru,^  we  find  that,  dark  as  they  were, 
they  were  almost  bright  as  compared  with  what  appear  to 
be  to-day  the  conditions  in  the  Congo  State. 

It  is  no  doubt  hazardous  in  an  historical  paper  to  touch 
upon  so  delicate  a  subject  as  the  race  question,  but  I  will 
venture  a  tew  words  upon  its  broader  aspects. 

The  race  question  involves  not  only  the  relations  between 
the  whites  and  the  colored  in  our  Southern  states ;  it  con- 
fronts us  in  the  Philippines  and  Porto  Rico.  In  other 
aspects  it  is  and  will  be  one  of  the  perennial  and  absorbing 
problems  in  the  development  of  Africa.  For  the  considera- 
tion, not  to  say  settlement,  of  a  question  so  complicated 
and  so  involved  in  prejudice  and  passion  and  wrong,  no 
light  or  teaching  that  history  afifords  should  be  neglected. 
These  questions  were  first  faced  by  the  Spaniards  of  all 
modern  Europeans,  and  in  the  four  hundred  years'  history 
of  Spanish  America  there  is  a  wealth  of  human  experience 
in  the  contact  of  races  that  may  be  drawn  upon  for  warning 
or  instruction  or  possibly  for  reassurance. 

If  history  has  lessons  for  the  present,  the  history  of 
Spanish  America  assuredly  deserves  an  immensely  more 
careful  study  than  it  has  yet  received.  If  the  study  of  that 
history  is  prosecuted  with  scientific  detachment,  penetrating 
discrimination,  and  generous  liberality  of  mind, — that  free- 
dom from  the  distorting  influences  of  race  pride  and  re- 
ligious prepossession, — it  will  enrich  the  history  of  Spain 


1  Noticias  Secretaa  de  America,  etc.     Sacadas  fi,  luz  por  Don  David  Barry. 
London.  1826. 


RELATIONS  OF  AMERICAN  HISTORY      211 

and  broaden  the  study  of  our  own  colonial  history,  and 
contribute  to  the  intelligent  appreciation  of  the  race  prob- 
lems of  the  twentieth  century. 

In  this  brief  essay  upon  a  subject  so  comprehensive  as 
the  relation  of  American  history  to  other  fields  of  historical 
study,  I  have  found  it  hardly  practicable  to  do  more  than 
to  remind  the  student  of  European  civilization  that  his 
territory  extends  across  the  Atlantic,  and  is  not  bounded 
by  it,  and  that  the  forces  and  tendencies,  the  people  and  the 
institutions  with  whose  development  he  is  occuiped,  have 
a  life  over-seas,  distinct  but  not  detached  from  the  life  in 
the  Old  World,  and  one  with  whose  powerful  reactions 
on  the  parent  civilization  he  must  reckon;  and,,  lastly,  I 
have  ventured  to  advocate  a  broader  treatment  of  the 
history  of  European  colonization  in  the  New  World,  which 
will  accord  to  the  work  of  Spain  a  more  appreciative  recog- 
nition, and  which  may  not  be  without  interest  and  value  to 
us,  now  that  we  have  undertaken  to  shape  the  history  of 
millions  of  people  whose  earlier  acquisitions  of  European 
culture  came  through  Spain,  or  to  those  European  nations 
which  have  the  problem  of  Africa  on  their  hands. 


SACAJAWEA   aUIDINO  TEE  LEWIS  AND  CLARE  EXPEDITION 

The  Lewis  and  Clark  Expedition  was  appointed,  during  Jefferson's  first  admin- 
istration, to  explore  the  Missouri  river  and  seek  water  communication  with  the 
Pacific  coast.  The  success  of  thin  expedition  was  largely  due  to  the  services  of 
Sacajawea,  the  Shoshone  Indian  slave  wife  of  a  French  pioneer  who  was  engaged  to 
guide  the  partv  from  Mandan  through  the  Rocky  Mountains.  This  remarkable 
woman  endured  all  the  hardships  and  shared  with  tlie  men  all  the  perils  and  priva- 
tions of  the  expedition,  carrying  an  infant  at  her  back  meantime,  yet  never  a  com- 
plaint escaped  her  lips,  and  her  spirits  were  ever  the  lightest.  From  the  head-waters 
of  the  Missouri  she  pointed  the  way  to  a  pass  through  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and 
guided  the  party  through  it. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  OF  DEPARTMENT  OF  HISTORY' 

ANCIENT  HISTORY 

GENERAL. 
DUNCKER,  M.,  Geschichte  des  Alterthuma. 
Lenormant,  F.,  Histoire  Ancienne  de  I'Orient. 
Mahaffy,  J.  P.,  Prolegomena  to  Ancient  History. 
Maspeeo,  G.  C.  C,  Histoire  Ancienne  des  Peuples  de  I'Orient. 

Dawn  of  Civilization. 

Struggle  of  the  Nations. 

Passing  of  the  Empires. 
Meyer,  E.,  Geschichte  des  Alterthums. 
Rawlinson,  G.,  Five  Great  Monarchies. 

Sixth  Great  Oriental  Monarchy,  Parthia. 
Seventh  Great  Oriental  Monarchy,  New  Persian  Empire. 
ScHRADEE,  0.,  Sprachvergleichung  und  Urgeschichte. 
Seignobos,  C.,  Les  Anciens  Peuples  de  I'Orient. 
Welzhofer,  H.,  Allgemeine  Geschichte  des  Altertums. 

BABYLONIA  AND  ASSYRIA. 
Hommel,  F.,  Geschichte  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens. 
Oppert,  J.,  Histoire  des  Empires  de  Chald6e  et  d'Assyrie. 
TiELE,  C.  P.,  Babylonisch-Assyrische  Geschichte. 

ARABIA 

Flugel,  G.,  Geschichte  der  Araber. 

Keemer,  a.,  Culturgeschichte  des  Orients  unter  den  Chalifen. 

MuiB,  Sir  W.,  Annals  of  the  Early  Caliphate. 

Life  of  Mahomet. 

Rise  and  Decline  of  Islam. 
Sedillot,  L.  p.  E.  a.,  Histoire  G6n6rale  des  Arabes. 

CHINA   AND  JAPAN 
Adams,  F.  O.,  History  of  Japan. 
Bastian,  a..  Die  Volker  des  Ostlichen  Asien. 
BouLGER,  D.  C,  History  of  China. 
Griffis,  W.  E..  The  Mikado's  Empire. 
Kauffeb,  J.  E.  R.,  Geschichte  von  Ost-Asien. 


1  For  universal  histories,  see  under  Modern  History. 

213 


214  DEPARTMENT  OF  HISTORY 

Koch,  W.,  Japan:   Geschichte  nach  Japanischen  Quellen. 

Metchnikoff,  L.,  L'Empire  Japonais. 

Rathgen,  K.,  Japans  Volkswirtschaft  und  Staatshaushalt. 

Rein,  J.,  Japan  nach  Reisen  und  Studien. 

Williams,  S.  W.,  The  Middle  Kingdom. 

EGYPT. 
Bbugsch,  H.,  Geschichte  Aegyptens  unter  den  Pharaonen. 
Budge,  E.  A.  W.,  History  of  Egypt. 
Mahaffy,  J.  P..  Empire  of  the  Ptolemies. 
Petrie,  W.  M.  F.,  History  of  Egypt. 
Wiedemann,  A.,  Aegyptische  Geschichte. 

GREECE 
Abbott,  E.,  History  of  Greece. 
Beloch,  J.,  Griechische  Geschichte. 
BuEY,  J.  B.,  History  of  Greece  to  death  of  Alexander. 
BusoLT,  G.,  Griechische  Geschichte. 
CuBTius,  E.,  Griechische  Geschichte. 
Dboysen,  J.  G.,  Geschichte  des  Hellenismus. 
DuBUY,  v.,  L'Histoire  des  Grecs. 
Freeman,  E.  A.,  History  of  Federal  Government. 
Fustel  de  Coulanges,  La  Cite  Antique. 
Gregorovius,  F.,  Geschichte  der  Stadt  Athen. 
Grote,  G.,  History  of  Greece. 
Holm,  A.,  Griechische  Geschichte. 
Lloyd,  W.  W.,  Age  of  Pericles. 
Mahaffy,  J.  P.,  Greek  World  under  Roman  Sway. 

Problems  in  Greek  History. 

Progress  of  Hellenism  in  Alexander's  Empire. 

Survey  of  Greek  Civilization. 
Mttller,  L  von,  Handbouch  der  Klassischen  Altertumswissenschaft. 
Niese,  N.,  Geschichte  der  Griechischen  und  Makedonischen  Staaten. 
ScHOMANN,  G.  F.,  Die  Verfassungsgeschichte  Athen's. 
TsouNTAS,  C,  and  Manatt,  J.  L,  The  Mycenaean  Age. 

INDIA 
Elliot,  Sib  H.  M.,  History  of  India. 

Hunter,  Sir  W.  W.,  Indian  Empire:   its  Peoples,  History,  and  Pro- 
ducts. 
Lefmann,  S.,  Geschichte  des  Alten  Indians. 
Mill,  J.,  History  of  British  India. 
Wheeleb,  J.  T.,  History  of  India. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  215 

JEWS 

EwAiD,  H.,  Geschichte  des  Volkes  Israel, 
Gratz,  H.,  Geschichte  der  Juden. 
KiTTEL,  R.,  Geschichte  der  Hebraer. 
Reinach,  T.,  Histoire  des  Israelites. 
Renan,  E.,  Histoire  du  Peuple  d'Israel. 

MONGOLS,   PERSIA,  AND   PHOENICIA 

HowOBTH,  H.  H.,  History  of  the  Mongols. 
GoBirEAU,  J.  A.  de,  Histoire  des  Perses. 
JusTi,  F.,  Geschichte  des  Alten  Persiens. 
PiETSCHMANN,  R.,  Geschichtc  der  Phonizler. 
Rawlinson,  G.,  History  of  Phoenicia. 

ROME. 

Abnold,  W.  T.,  Roman  System  of  Provincial  Administration. 

BUBY,  J.  B.,  History  of  the  Later  Roman  Empire. 

DuEUY,  v.,  Histoire  des  Remains. 

Freeman,  E.  A.,  History  of  Sicily. 

Friedlander,  L.,  Darstellungen  aus  der  Sittengeschlchte  Roms. 

Gibbon,  E.,  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire. 

HoDGKiN,  T.,  Italy  and  her  Invaders. 

Ihne,  W.,  Romische  Geschichte. 

KuHN,   E.,   Der   Stadtische  und  Biirgerliche  Verfassung  des  Rom- 

ischen  Reichs. 
Long,  G.,  Decline  of  the  Roman  Republic. 

Madvig,  J.  N.,  Verfassung  und  Verwaltung  des  Romischen  Staatea. 
Marquardt,  K.  J.,  and  Mommsen,  T.,  Handbuch  der  Romischen  Alter- 

thiimer. 
Meeivale,  C.,  History  of  the  Romans  under  the  Empire. 
Mommsen,  T.,  Romische  Geschichte. 

Provinces  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
Romische  Forschungen. 
NiEBUHE,  B.  G.,  Romische  Geschichte. 
Schillee,  H.,  Geschichte  der  Romische  Kaiserzeit. 
Schweglee,  a.,  Romische  Geschichte. 
Thiebey,  a.,  Tableau  de  I'Empire  Romain. 
WiLLEMS,  P.,  Le  Droit  Public  Romain. 

Le  S6nat  de  la  R6publique  Romaine. 


216  DEPARTMENT  OF  HISTORY 


MEDIEVAL  HISTORYi 

Adams,  G.  B..  Civilization  during  the  Middle  Ages. 

AssMANN,  W.,  Geschichte  des  Mittelalters. 

Bbyce,  J.,  Holy  Roman  Empire. 

BrRCKHAKDT,  J.,  Die  Zeit  Constantins  des  Grossen. 

Dahn,  F.,  Urgeschichte  der  Germanischen  und  Romanischen  V81ker. 

DEL.VBC,  0..  Saint  Gr6goire  VII  et  la  R6forme  de  I'Egllse  au  Xle 

si§cle. 
DuEUT,  v.,  Histolre  du  Moyen  Age. 
Emerton,  E.,  Mediaeval  Europe,  814-1300. 
FiSHEB,  H.  A.  L.,  The  Medieval  Empire. 
Freeman,  E.  A.,  Historical  Geography  of  Europe. 
Geffcken,  F.  H.,  Staat  und  Kirche. 
Gfeoreb,  a.  F.,  Pabst  Gregorius  VII  und  sein  Zeitalter. 
Gbegoeovius,  F.,  Geschichte  der  Stadt  Rom  im  Mittelalter. 
GuizoT,  F.  P.  G.,  Histoire  des  Origines  du  Gouvernement  repr6sen- 

tatif  en  Europe. 
Hallam,  H.,  View  of  the  State  of  Europe  during  the  Middle  Ages. 
HiMLY,    A.,    Histoire    de    la    Formation    Territoriale    des    Etats    de 

I'Europe  Centrale. 
Kingslet,  C.,  The  Roman  and  the  Teuton. 
KuGLEB,  B.,  Geschichte  der  Kreuzziige. 
MicHAUD,  J.  F.,  Histoire  des  Croisades. 
Milman,  H.  H.,  History  of  Latin  Christianity. 
MoNTALEMBERT,  C,  Les  Moines  d'Occident. 
NiEHUEs.  B.,  Geschichte  des  Verhaltnisses  Zwlschen  Kaiserthum  und 

Papstthum  im  Mittelalter. 
Paixman,  R.,  Geschichte  der  Volkerwanderung. 
Pflugk-Harttukg,  J.  v.,  Geschichte  des  Mittelalters. 
Prutz,  H.,  Kulturgeschichte  der  Kreuzziige. 

Savigxy,  F.  C,  Geschichte  des  Romischen  Rechts  im  Mittelalter. 
ScHULTZE,  v.,  Geschichte  des  Untergangs  des  Griechisch-Romischen 

Heidentums. 
Secri^tan,  E.,  Essai  sur  la  F6odalit6. 
Stubbs,  W.,  Study  of  Mediaeval  and  Modern  History. 
Sybel,  H.  von,  History  and  Literature  of  the  Crusades. 
WiETERSHEiM,  E.,  VON,  Geschichte  der  Volkerwanderung. 
Zeixeb,  J.,  Entretiens  sur  I'Histoire  du  Moyen  Age. 


J  For  history  of  individual  r.ountriet,  see  under  Modern  History  of  Eu/rope. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  217 


MODERN  HISTORY 

(including  some  universal  histories  of  which  individual  volumes 

ARE  given   under  SPECIAL  COUNTRIES) 

Alison,  Sir  A.,  History  of  EXirope,  from  1789  to  1815. 

History  of  Europe  from  1815  to  1852. 
Andrews,  C.  M.,  Historical  Development  of  Modern  Europa 
Annual  Register. 

BuLLE,  C,  Geschichte  der  Neuesten  Zeit. 
Cambridge  Modern  History. 
Creighton,  M.,  History  of  the  Papacy. 
Dyer,  T.  H..  History  of  Modern  Europe. 
Fisher,  G.  P.,  The  Reformation. 
Flaxhe,  T.,  and  others.     Allgemeine  Weltgeschichte. 
Fyffe,  C.  a..  History  of  Modern  Europe. 
Gervinus,  G.  G.,  Geschichte  des  19ten  Jahrhunderts. 
GiNDELEY,  A.,  Geschichte  des  Dreissigjahrigen  Kreiges. 
Hausser,  L.,  Geschichte  des  Zeitalters  der  Reformation,  1517-1648. 
Heeren,  a.  H.  L.,  and  others.     Geschichte  der  Europaischen  Staaten. 
Helmot,  H.  F.,  ed.,  Weltgeschichte. 
Lavisse,  E.,  and  Rambaud,  A.  N.,  Histoire  GSnerale  du  IVe  Si^cle  k 

nos  Jours. 
Lowell,  A.  L.,  Governments  and  Parties  in  Continental  Europe. 
May,  Sir  T.  E.,  Democracy  in  Europe. 
MtJLLER,  W..  ed.,  Politische  Geschichte  der  Gegenwart. 

Politische  Geschichte  der  Neuesten  Zeit. 
NooRDEN,  C.  voN,  Europaische  Geschichte  im  Achtzehnten  Jahrhun- 

dert. 
Oncken,  W.,  ed.,  Allgemeine  Geschichte  in  Einzeldarstellungen. 
Pastor,  L.,  Geschichte  der  Papste. 
Ranke,   L.  von,   SS,mmtliche  Werke. 

Weltgeschichte. 
Raumeb,  F.  von,  Briefs  aus  Paris  zur  Erlauterung  der  Geschichte 
des  16ten  und   17ten  Jahrhunderts. 
Geschichte  Europas  seit  dcm  Ende  des  ISten  Jahrhunderts. 
ScHLOssER,  F.  C,  Geschichte  des  ISten  Jahrhunderts  und  des  19ten 

bis  zum  Sturz  des  Franzosischen  Kaiserreichs. 
ScHULTHESs,  H.,  ed.,  Europaischer  Geschichtskalender. 
Seignobos,  C,  Histoire  Politique  de  I'Europe  Contemporalne. 
Staatengeschichte  der  Neuesten  Zeit. 
Stern,  A.,  Geschichte  Europas,  1815-1871. 
Weber,  G..  Allgemeine  Weltgeschichte. 
Williams,  H.  S..  ed..  Historian's  History  of  the  World, 


218  DEPARTMENT  OE  HISTORY 

ENGLAND  AND  SCOTLAND 
Ashley,   W.    J..    Introduction    to    English    Economic    History    and 

Theory. 
Brewer,  J.  S.,  Reign  of  Henry  VIIL 
Brown,  P.  H.,  History  of  Scotland. 
Burton,  J.  H.,  History  of  Scotland. 

History  of  the  Reign  of  Queen  Anne. 
Freeman,  E.  A.,  History  of  the  Norman  Conquest. 

Reign  of  William  Rufus. 
Gairdner,  J.,  History  of  the  Life  and  Reign  of  Richard  the  Third. 
Gardiner,  S.  R..  History  of  England,  1603-1642. 

History  of  the  Great  Civil  War,  1642-1649. 
History  of  the  Commonwealth  and  Protectorate,  1649-1656. 
Gneist,  R.,  Englische  Verfassungsgeschichte. 

Geschichte  und  Heutige  Gestalt  der  Englischen  Kommunal- 
verfassung  oder  des  Selfgovernment. 
Green,  J.  R.,  Conquest  of  England. 
Making  of  England. 
History  of  the  English  People. 
Hallam,  H.,  Constitutional  History  of  England. 
Hume,  D.,  History  of  England. 
James,  W.,  Naval  History  of  Great  Britain. 
Kemble,  J.  M.,  Saxons  in  England. 
Lang,  A.,  History  of  Scotland. 

Lappenbeeg,  J.  M.,  Pauli,  R..  and  Beosch,  M..  Geschichte  von  Eng- 
land. 
Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 
Lingard,  J.,  History  of  England. 
Longman,  W.,  Life  and  Times  of  Edward  IIL 
Macaulay,  T.  B.,  History  of  England. 
McCarthy,  J.,  History  of  Our  Own  Times. 
MACKINNON,  J.,  History  of  Edward  the  Third. 
May,  Sir,  T.  E.,  Constitutional  History  of  England. 
MoLESwoRTH,  W.  N.,  History  of  England,  1830-1874. 
NoRGATE,  K.,  England  under  the  Angevin  Kings. 

John  Lackland. 
Paul,  H.  W.,  History  of  Modern  England. 
Pearson,  C.  H.,  History  of  England  during  the  Early  and  Middle 

Ages. 
Ramsay,  Sib,  J.  H.,  The  Foundations  of  England. 
Angevin  Empire. 
Lancaster  and  York. 
ScoTT,  Sib  S.  D.,  The  British  Army. 
Seebohm,  F.,  English  Village  Community. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  219 

Skene,  W.  F.,  Celtic  Scotland. 

Stanhope,  P.  H.,  History  of  England  comprising  the  Reign  of  Queen 
Anne  until  the  Peace  of  Utrecht. 
History  of  England  from  Peace  of  Utrecht  to  Peace  of 
Versailles. 
Stubbs,  W..  Constitutional  History  of  England. 
Todd,  A.,  Parliamentary  Government  in  England. 
Tbaill,  H.  D.,  and  Mann,  J.  S..  Social  England. 
ViNOGRADOFF,  P.,  Villainage  in  England. 
Walpole,  Sir  S.,  History  of   England  from  the  Conclusion  of  the 

Great  War  in  1815. 
Wylle,  J.  H.,  History  of  England  under  Henry  IV. 

FRANCE. 
Adams,  C.  K.,  Democracy  and  Monarchy  in  France. 
Baird,  H.  M.,  Rise  of  the  Huguenots  of  France. 
Huguenots  and  Henry  of  Navarre. 
Huguenots  and  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes. 
Barante,  a.  G.  p.  de.  Histoire  des  Dues  de  Bourgogne. 
Blanc,  L.,  Histoire  de  la  Revolution  Frangaise. 
BoDLEY,  J.  E.  C,  France. 

BoNNELL,  H.  E.,  Die  Anfange  des  Karolingischen  Hauses. 
BoRDiER,  H.  L.,  and  Charton,  E.,  Histoire  de  France. 
Carlyle,  T.,  The  French  Revolution. 
CouBEBTiN,  P.  DE,  L'Evolution  Frangaise  sous  la  Troisieme  R6pub- 

lique. 
Crowe,  E.  E.,  History  of  France. 
Dareste  de  la  Chavanne,  C,  Histoire  de  France. 
Delord,  T.,  Histoire  Hlustree  du  Second  Empire. 
Duvergier  de  Hauranne,  p.,  Histoire  du  Gouvernement  Parlemen- 

taire  en  France.  1814-1848. 
Flach,  J.,  Les  Origines  de  I'Ancienne  France. 
Fustel    de    Coulanges,     Histoire    des     Institutions     Politiques    de 

I'Ancienne  France. 
Glasson,  E.,  Histoire  du  Droit  et  des  Institutions  de  la  France. 
GuizoT,  F.  P.  G.,  Histoire  de  France. 
Hanotaux,  G.,  Histoire  de  la  France  Contemporaine. 
HiLLEBRAND,  K.,  Geschichte  Frankreichs,  1830-1871. 
JoBEz,  A.,  La  France  sous  Louis  XV. 

Kirk,  J.  F..  History  of  Charles  the  Bold,  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
KiTCHiN,  G.  W.,  History  of  France. 
Lamartine,  a.  DE,  Histoire  de  la  Restauration. 
Lanfrey,  p..  Histoire  de  Napoleon  ler. 
Lavisse,  E.,  Histoire  de  France. 


220  DEPARTMENT  OF  HISTORY 

LOEBELL,  J.  W.,  Gregor  von  Tours  und  seine  Zeit. 

LucHAiRE,  A.,  Histoire  des  Institutions  Monarcliiques  de  la  France 

sous  les  Premiers  Capetiens. 
Mahan,  a.  T.,  Influence  of  Sea  Power  upon  the  French  Revolution 

and  Empire,  1793-1812. 
Mabtin,  H.,  Histoire  de  France. 
MiCHEUET,  J.,  Histoire  de  France. 

Histoire  de  la  Revolution  Frangaise. 
Palgrave,  Sir  F.,  History  of  Normandy  and  of  England. 
Pebkins,  J.  B.,  France  under  Mazarin,  1610-1660. 
France  under  the  Regency,  1661-1723. 
France  under  Louis  XV,  1723-1774. 
PicoT,  G.,  Histoire  des  Etats-Generaux. 
PoiBSON,  A.,  Histoire  du  R6gne  de  Henri  IV. 
Rambaud,  a.,  Histoire  de  la  Civilisation  Frangaise. 

Histoire  de  la  Civilisation  Contemporaine  en  France. 
RiCHTER,  G.,  Annalen  des  Frankischen  Reichs. 
SiMOXDE  DE  SiSMO'Di,  J.  C.  L.,  Histoire  des  Frangais. 
Sloane,  W.  M..  Life  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte. 
SoBEL,  A.,  L'Europe  et  la  Revolution  Frangaise. 
Stephens,  H.  M.,  History  of  the  French  Revolution. 
Sybel,  H.  von,  Geschichte  der  Revolutionzeit,  1789-1800. 
Taine,  H.  a.,  Les  Origines  de  la  France  Contemporaine. 
Thierry,  Am^d^e,  Histoire  des  Gaulois. 
Thierry,   Augitstin,    Essai   sur   I'Histoire   de   la    Formation   et   des 

Progrfes  du  Tiers  Etat. 
Thiers.  A.,  Histoire  de  la  Revolution  Frangaise. 

Histoire  du  Consulat  et  de  I'Empire. 
Thubeau-Dangin,  p.,  Histoire  de  la  Monarchie  de  Juillet. 
Viel-Castel,  L.  de,  Histoire  de  la  Restauration. 
Viollet,  p.,  Histoire  des   Institutions   Politique  et  Admlnistratives 

de  la  France. 
Wallon,  H.  a.,  St.  Louis  et  son  Temps. 

GERMANY  AND  AUSTRIA 
ARM.STR0NG,  E.,  Empcror  Charles  V. 
Arnold,  W.,  Deutsche  Geschichte. 
Baumgarten,  H.,  Geschichte  Karls  V. 
Cablyle,  T.,  History  of  Friedrich  II  of  Prussia. 
CosEL,  E.,  VON,  Geschichte  des  Preussischen  Staates  und  Volkes  unter 

den  Hohenzollern'schen  Fiirsten. 
CoxE,  W.,  History  of  the  House  of  Austria. 
Dahn,  F.,  Die  Konige  der  Germanen. 
Deoteen,  J.  G.,  Geschichte  der  Preussischen  Politik. 


( 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  221 

Ebebty,  F.,  Geschichte  des  Preussischen  Staats. 

Gebhardt,  B.,  Handbuch  der  Deutschen  Geschichte. 

Gerdes,  H..  Geschichte  des  Deutschen  Volkes  und  seiiwM-  Kultur  Im 

Mittelalter. 
GiESEBRECHT,  W.,  Geschichte  der  Deutschen  Kaizeizeil. 
Hausser,  L.,  Deutsche  Geschichte  vom  Tode  Friedrichs  des  Grossen 

bis  zur  Griindung  des  Deutschen  Bundes. 
Hegel,  K.,  Stadte  und  Gilden  der  Germanlschen  Volker. 
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Short  History  of  Germany. 
Henne-am-Rhyn,  0.,  Kulturgeschichte  des  Deutschen  Volkes. 

jAHRBtJCHER  DES  DEUTSCHEN   ReICHES. 

Janseen,  J.,  Geschichte  des  Deutschen  Volkes  seit  dem  Ausgang  dea 

Mittelalters. 
Kaufmann,  G.,  Deutsche  Geschichte  bis  auf  Karl  den  Grossen. 
Kbones    von   Marchland,   F.   X.,   Handbuch    der    Geschichte   Oster- 

reichs. 
Lampbecht,  K...  Deutsche  Geschichte. 
Leger,  L.,  Histoire  de  I'Autriche-Hongrie. 
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Jahrhunderts  bis  zur  Reformation. 
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NiTzscH,  K.  W.,  Geschichte  des  Deutschen  Volkes. 
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Sayous,  E.,  Histoire  Generale  des  Hongrois. 
ScHAEFER,  A.,  Geschichte  des  Siebenjahrigen  Kreigs. 
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Spbingeb,  a.,  Geschichte  Osterreichs  seit  dem  Wiener  Frieden,  1809. 
Stibling-Maxwell,  Sib  W.,  Don  John  of  Austria. 
Stobbe,  O.,  Geschichte  der  Deutschen  Rechtsquellen. 
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TuTTLE,  H..  History  of  Prussia. 
Waitz,  G.,  Deutsche  Verfassungsgeschichte. 


222  DEPARTMENT  OF  HISTORY 

Zeixeb,  J.,  Histoire  d'Allemagne. 
ZoPFL,  H.,  Deutsche  Rechtsgeschichte. 

ITALY 
BoTTA,  C.  G.  G.,  Storia  d'ltalia. 

BuRCKHABDT,  J.,  Die  Cultur  der  Renaissance  in  Italien. 
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Dabu,  p.  a.  N.  B.,  Historie  de  la  Republique  de  Venise. 
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Galluzzi.  J.  R.,  Istoria  del  Granducato  di  Toscana. 
Hazlitt,  W.  C,  History  of  the  Venetian  Republic. 
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1870. 
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Reuchlin,    H.,   Geschichte    Italiens   von    der  Griindung   der  Regier- 

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Reumont,  a.  vox,  Geschichte  Toscana's  seit  dem  Ende  des  Floren- 
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Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  il  Magnifico. 
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Tbollope,  T.  a..  History  of  the  Commonwealth  of  Florence. 
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La  Storia  di  Girolamo  Savonarala  e  de*  suoi  Tempi. 
Niccol6  Machiavelli  e  i  suoi  Tempi. 
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NETHERLANDS  AND  BELGIUM. 
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Bosch-Kemper,  J.  DE,  Geschiedenis  van  Nederland  na  1830. 
Geddes,  J.,  History  of  the  Administration  of  John  De  Witt. 
Juste,  T.,  Histoire  de  Belgique. 

Histoire  du  Congrfis  National  de  Belgique. 
La  R6volution  Beige. 
LEFfe\'BE-PoNTALis,  A.,  Vingt  Ann^Bs  de  RSpublique  Parlementaira  au 

17e  Si6cle;  Jean  de  Witt. 
Motlet,  J.  L.,  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic. 
History  of  the  United  Netherlands. 
Life  and  Death  of  John  of  Barneveld. 
NuiJENS,  W.  J.  F.,  Geschiedenis  van  het  Nederlandsche  Volk   van 
1815  tot  op  onze  Dagen. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  223 

Putnam,  R.,>  William  the  Silent,  Prince  of  Orange. 
Wenzelbubqeb,  K.  T.,  Geschichte  der  Nlederlande. 

RUSSIA 
Bebnhabdi,    T.    von,    Geschichte    Russlands    und    der    Europalschen 

Politik.  1814-1831. 
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ScHNiTZLEB,  J.  H.,  L'Empire  des  Tsars  au  Point  Actuel  d.^  la  Selene. 
Schuyleb,  E.,  Peter  the  Great. 

Stbahl,  p.,  and  Herrmann,  E.,  Geschichte  des  Russischen  Staates. 
Wallace,  D.  M..  Russia. 

SCANDINAVIA 
Allen,  C.  F.,  Haandbog  i  Fsedrelandets  Historie. 
Dahlmann,  F.  C,  Geschichte  von  Dannemark. 
Geijeb,  E.  G.,  and  Carlson,  F.  F.,  Geschichte  Schwedens. 
Maureb,  K.,   Island  von  seiner  ersten  Entdeckung  bis  zum  Unter- 
gange  des  Freistaats. 

SPAIN 
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sischen  Revolution  bis  auf  unsere  Tage. 
Canovas  del  Castillo,  A.,  Historia  General  de  Espana. 
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Dunham,  S.  A.,  History  of  Spain  and  Portugal. 
FoENEBON,  H.,  Histoire  de  Philippe  II. 
Hubbabd,  G.,  Histoire  Contemporaine  de  I'Espagne. 
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History  of  the  Reign  of  Phillip  the  Second. 
Romey,  C,  Histoire  d'Espagne. 

SWITZERLAND 
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Dandlikeb,  K.,  Geschichte  der  Schweiz. 
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224  DEPARTMENT  OF  HISTORY 

Henne-am-Rhyn,    0.,    Geschichte    des    Schweizervolkes    und    seiner 

Kultur. 
MoKix.  A..  Pr6cis  de  I'Histoire  Politique  de  la  Suisse. 
MtJLLEB,  J.  VON,  and  others,  Histoire  de  la  Confederation  Suisse. 
VuLLiEMiN.  L.,  Histoire  de  la  Confederation  Suisse. 

TURKEY   AND   GREECE 
Engelhabdt,  E.,  La  Turquie  et  le  Tanzimat. 
FiNLAY,  G.,  History  of  Greece. 

Hammer-Purgstall,  J.  VON,  Gescliichte  des  Osmanischen  Reiches. 
Heetzbebg,  G.  F.,  Geschichte  Griechenlands. 
Mendelssohn-Babtholdy,  K.,  Geschichte  Griechenlands  von  1453  biB 

auf  unsere  Tage. 
Prokesch-Ostex,  a.,  Geschichte  des  Abfalls  der  Griechen. 

TBIKOUPES,    S.,    'ItrropCa  r^s  'EAA7)>'i)cJ)s  'ETravacTTao'ea)?, 

Xenopolu,  a.  D.,  Istoria  Rominilor  din  Dacia  Traiana. 

Zinkeisen,  J.  W.,  Geschichte  des  Osmanischen  Reiches  in  Europa. 

HISTORY  OF  AMERICA 

Adams,  H.,  History  of  the  United  States  of  America. 

Aveby,  E.  M.,  History  of  the  United  States  and  its  People. 

Banceoft,  G.,   History  of  the  United  States. 

Bancroft,  H.  H.,  History  of  the  Pacific  States. 

Battles  and  Leadebs  of  the  CrviL  War. 

Benton,  T.  H.,  Thirty  Years'  View. 

Blaine,  J.  G.,  Twenty  Years  of  Congress. 

Bolles,  a.  S.,  Financial  History  of  the  United  States. 

Bbuce,   p.   a..   Economic   History   of  Virginia   in   the   Seventeenth 

Century. 
Bryant,    W.    C,    and    others,    Scribner's    Popular    History    of    the 

United  States. 
Beyce,  James,  The  American  Commonwealth. 
CuBTis,  G.  T.,  Constitutional  History  of  the  United  States. 
Davis,  Jefferson,  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Confederate  Government. 
DoNiOL,  H.,  Histoire  de  la  Participation  de  la  France  a,  I'Etablisse- 

ment  des  Etats-Unis  d'Amerique. 
Doyle,  J.  A.,  English  Colonies  in  America. 
FisKE,  J.,  Discovery  of  America. 

Old  Virginia  and  her  Neighbours. 

Beginnings  of  New  England. 

Dutch  and  Quaker  Colonies  in  America. 

New  France  and  New  England. 

American  Revolution. 

Critical  Period  of  American  History. 
Hamilton,  J.  C,  History  of  the  Republic  of  the  United  States. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  5i86 

Habt,  a.  B..  ed.,  The  American  Nation. 

Helps,  Sik  A.,  Spanish  Conquest  in  America. 

HiLDEETH,  R.,  History  of  the  United  States  of  America. 

HoLSi,  H.  E.  VON,  Constitutional  and  Political  History  of  th»  UnlUd 

States. 
Lecky,  W.  E.  H.,  American  Revolution. 
Maclay,  E.  S.,  History  of  the  United  States  Navy. 
McMastek,  J.  B.,  History  of  the  People  of  the  United  States. 
MoiBEAU,  A.,  Histoire  des  Etats-Unis  de  I'Amfirique  du  Nord. 
Palfrey,  J.  G.,  History  of  New  England. 
Pakis,  Comte  de,  Histoire  de  la  Guerre  Civile  en  Am6rique. 
Rhodes,  J.  F..  History  of  the  United  States  from  the  Compromls* 

of  1850. 
Roosevelt,   T.,  Winning  of  the  West. 
Ropes,  J.  C,  Story  of  the  Civil  War. 
Schculeb,  J.,  History  of  the  United  States  of  America. 
Trevelyan,  G.  O.,  American  Revolution. 

Weeden,  W.  B.,  Economic  and  Social  History  of  New  England. 
Wilson,  H.,  History  of  the  Rise  and  Fall  of  the  Slave   Power  In 

America. 
WiNSOB,  J.,  Cartier  to  Frontenac,  1534-1700. 
The  Mississippi  Basin,  1697-1763. 
The  Westward  Movement,  1763-1798. 
ed.,  Narrative  and  Critical  History  of  America. 

CANADA 
Chbistie,  R.,  History  of  the  Late  Province  of  Lower  Canada. 
Faillon,  M.  E.,  Histoire  de  la  Colonie  Frangalse  en  Canada. 
Gabneau,  F.  X.,  Histoire  du  Canada. 
EliNGsroRD,  W.,  History  of  Canada. 
Parkman,  F.,  Works. 

SuLTE,  B.,  Histoire  des  Canadiens-Frangais. 
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MEXICO  AND  SOUTH  AMERICA 
Akkangoiz,  F.  de,  M6jico  desde  1808  hasta  1867. 
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Mitre,  B.,  Historia  de  Belgrano  y  de  la  Independencia  Argentina. 
Prescott,  W.  H.,  History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico. 

History  of  the  Conquest  of  Peru. 
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Zamacois,  N.  de,  Historia  de  M6jico. 


THE   FUNDAMENTAL   CONCEPTIONS  AND 

METHODS    OF    THE    HISTORY 

OF  LANGUAGE 

BY    THOMAS    RAYNESKORD    LOUNSBURY 

[Thomas  Raynesford  Lox'xsbiuy.  Professor  of  English,  Yale  Uni- 
versity, b.  January  1,  1838,  Ovid,  New  York.  A.B.  Yale  Col- 
lege, 1859;  LL.D.  ibid.  1892;  ibid.  Harvard  College,  1893;  L.H.D. 
Lafayette,  1895;  ibid.  Princeton,  1896.  Instructor  in  English. 
Sheffield  Scientific  School,  Yale  University,  1870-71.  Edited 
complete  edition  of  Charles  Dudley  Warner's  Works,  with  bio- 
graphical sketch.  Author  of  Life  of  James  Feniviore  Coop>r: 
Studies  in  Chaucer;  History  of  the  English  Lanyxuiye:  ahakis- 
peare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist;  Shakespeare  and  Voltaire;  Standard 
of  Pronunciation  in  English.] 

It  is  only  within  comparatively  recent  times  that  the  prin- 
ciples which  underlie  the  development  of  language  have  been 
clearly  understood.  By  those  who  went  before  us  speech 
was  usually  regarded,  not  as  an  emanation  from  us,  not  as 
an  expression  of  us,  but  as  something  outside  of  us,  a  sort 
of  mechanism  with  which  we  had  to  do;  which  was  some- 
times good,  sometimes  bad,  but  having  largely  an  independ- 
ent life  of  its  own.  Hence  it  could  improve  or  degenerate 
without  much  regard  to  the  character  or  attainments  of  those 
who  spoke  it.  All  that  it  behooved  these  to  do  was  to  im- 
prove it,  and  so  far  as  that  could  be  done,  perfect  it.  When 
that  happy  result  was  reached  care  was  to  be  taken  that  no 
further  changes  were  to  be  made  in  it ;  but  preserved  as 
much  as  possible  unimpaired,  be  transmitted  to  posterity, 
and  so  continue  the  length  of  years  it  was  permitted  to  live. 

For  along  with  this  belief  existed  another.  Every  lan- 
guage, it  was  supposed,  went  through  the  same  sort  of  ex- 
perience as  the  individuals  to  whom  it  was  a  possession. 
It  had  its  period  of  birth,  of  growth,  and  of  maturity.  Then 
followed  the  inevitable  decay.     This  could  be  retarded,  but 

227 


228  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

't  could  not  be  averted.  The  generally  accepted  view  was 
expressed  by  Dr.  Johnson  in  the  preface  to  his  dictionary. 
"Life,"  he  said,  "may  be  lengthened  by  care,  though  death 
cannot  be  ultimately  defeated :  tongues,  like  govern;iients, 
have  a  natural  tendency  to  degeneration ;  we  have  long  pre- 
served our  constitution :  let  us  make  some  struggles  for  our 
language." 

Undoubtedly  traces  of  this  belief  still  linger  among  us: 
but  in  general  it  meets  no  longer  with  acceptance.  We  have 
come  to  feel,  even  when  we  have  not  come  to  know,  that 
language  has  no  independent  life  outside  of  the  life  of  those 
who  speak  it.  Their  spirit  it  expresses,  their  hopes  and  as- 
pirations it  embodies;  and  as  a  consequence  it  is  operated 
upon  by  the  same  influences  which  affect  their  action  in 
other  ways.  It  shall  be  my  aim  in  the  present  address  to 
point  out  how  it  is  so  thoroughly  the  reflex  of  man's  nature 
that  even  the  very  agencies  which  affect  the  character  of  its 
vocabulary  and  the  development  of  its  grammatical  struc- 
ture are  essentially  like  those  which  determine  his  conduct 
and  career  in  other  respects.  My  illustration  will  naturally 
be  drawn  from  the  speech  with  which  I  am  most  familiar; 
but  parallel  illustrations  will  occur  to  any  one  to  whom  the 
possession  of  any  cultivated  tongue  belongs  b"  right  of 
birth. 

Language  is  constantly  acted  upon  by  numerous  in- 
fluences, all  of  which  are  diverse  and  some  of  which  are  not 
only  different  but  actually  hostile.  Speech  is  really  a  com- 
promise between  opposing  tendencies  in  the  minds  of  its 
users.  The  peculiar  character  it  exhibits  in  any  given  case 
is  a  result  that  has  been  brought  about  by  these  various 
agencies.  The  time  is  too  short  to  treat  the  subject  with 
exhaustive  detail.  Here  it  may  be  sufficient  to  give  a  gen- 
eral idea  of  its  nature  by  setting  forth  two  or  three  of  these 
conflicting  agencies  which  are  always  operating  upon  the 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  229 

users  of  speech,  whether  educated  or  ilHterate,  and  affect  un- 
consciously their  methods  of  utterance.  Then  we  shall  be 
in  a  position  tO'  consider  with  more  advantage  the  broad  dis- 
tinctions which  prevail  between  the  development  of  culti- 
vated and  uncultivated  tongues. 

The  first,  to  which  I  call  attention,  of  these  contradictory 
tendencies  that  are  always  manifesting  themselves  in  speech, 
is  the  disposition  to  practice  economy  of  utterance  and  the 
antagonistic  disposition  to  indulge  in  prodigality  of  utter- 
ance. By  the  former  I  am  not  referring  to  orthoepy,  where 
its  effects  have  been  most  frequently  noted,  tending  as  they 
do  to  induce  the  speaker  to  spend  as  little  time  as  possible  in 
the  pronunciation  of  words,  and  as  a  result  of  this  economy 
of  effort,  modifying  their  form.  It  is  the  material  itself 
of  language,  the  words  as  they  are  weaved  into  the  sentence, 
that  comes  here  under  consideration.  The  one  aim  that  the 
user  of  speech  has  constantly  in  mind  is  to  express  himself 
as  briefly  as  possible  consistent  with  easy  and  full  compre- 
hension. This  is  a  feeling  which  affects  all  men  in  every 
conceivable  stage  of  intellectual  development.  Grammatic- 
ally speaking,  we  are  all  endeavoring  to  convey  our  mean- 
ing in  any  given  sentence  with  the  fullest  economy  of  utter- 
ance. Mark  me,  I  say  grammatically  speaking,  not  rhetori- 
cally. The  latter  is  a  personal  influence  acting  upon  in- 
dividuals and  not  upon  the  body  of  speakers  as  a  whole. 

This  practically  universal  disposition  towards  economy  of 
utterance  has  been  one— though  doubtless  not  the  principal 
one — of  the  agencies  which  have  contributed  to  the  develop- 
ment and  diffusion  of  the  sign  language.  In  a  rudimentary 
form  this  prevails  everywhere.  We  see  it  exemplified  daily 
in  numerous  gestures  in  which  the  movement  of  some  part 
of  the  body  indicates  to  the  eye  what  the  lips  neglect  to  put 
into  words.  But  what  concerns  us  here  specifically  is  the 
effect  of  this  disposition  upon  the  structure  of  the  sentence. 


230  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

No  small  number  of  the  rules  laid  down  in  our  grammars 
are  for  the  purpose  of  meeting  the  requirements  of  the  situ- 
ation produced  by  the  desire  of  the  users  of  speech  to  ex- 
press what  they  have  to  say  with  the  least  expenditure  of 
effort.  Take  as  one  illustration  out  of  many  the  grammati- 
cal construction  called  ap[X)sition.  It  is  called  into  being 
for  no  other  purpose  than  to  explain  a  practice  of  omitting' 
words  for  the  sake  of  economy  of  utterance,  which  has  es- 
tablished itself  so  generally  that  it  has  come  to  seem  normal. 
Hence  we  never  take  into  account  the  fact  that  it  denotes 
nothing  more  than  the  abridgement  of  a  complete  dependent 
phrase.  This  is  but  a  single  fact  out  of  the  multitude  of 
facts  of  this  sort  which  the  student  of  the  grammar  of  every 
tongue  meets  on  every  side.  In  going  through  the  process 
we  call  parsing  we  are  constantly  under  the  necessity  of 
declaring  some  word  to  be  understood.  Its  presence  is  not 
required  for  comprehension ;  but  grammar  requires  it  for 
the  explanation  of  the  construction.  Language  abounds 
in  these  short  cuts  to  expression.  Every  tongue  has  pecu- 
liarities of  its  own  in  this  respect  which  other  tongues,  at 
least  some  other  tongues,  will  not  tolerate  at  all.  We  have 
a  striking  illustration  of  this  in  English  in  the  constant 
omission  of  the  relative.  In  such  a  sentence  as  "The  man 
you  saw  yesterday  came  to-day,"  no  one,  w'hether  speaking 
or  hearing,  feels  the  absence  of  the  pronoun.  It  is  only 
when  we  set  out  to  analyze  the  sentence  grammatically  that 
we  recognize  the  need  of  dragging  into  light  the  suppressed 
relative.  This  is  a  usage  to  which  many  languages  cannot 
resort ;  but  there  is  probably  not  a  language  on  the  globe  in 
which  a  single  word  is  not  made  to  do  often  the  duty  of  a 
whole  sentence. 

But  there  is  another  side  of  the  shield.  We  find  a  force 
at  work  which  impels  men  not  to  economize  effort,  but  to 
put  it  forth  in  profusion.       They  are  not  content  with  the 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  2'M 

fewest  words  or  abridged  constructions  in  ordor  to  make 
themselves  understood.  They  aniphfy,  they  vary,  they 
employ  expressions  which  abstractly  may  seem  unnecessary. 
Here  again  I  am  not  referring  to  the  expansion  of  the 
thought  in  the  way  of  adorning  it  or  illustrating  it,  which 
belongs  to  the  domain  of  rhetoric  and  not  of  linguistics 
proper.  But  the  reason  for  the  course  indicated  as  being 
followed  is  that  the  user  of  speech  often  feels  that  with  the 
words  sufficient  to  make  his  meaning  comprehended,  it  may 
not  after  all  be  fully  comprehended.  He  seeks  therefore  to 
add  to  its  clearness  by  the  addition  of  terms  and  phrases 
w'hich  will  not  leave  the  hearer  or  reader  in  the  slightest 
doubt.  Hence  always  has  come  and  always  will  continue 
to  come  into  speech  an  army  of  expressions  which  we  group 
under  the  general  names  of  expletives  and  redundances. 
These  often  cause  great  grief  to  the  grammarian;  but  the 
user  of  speech  cannot  be  deterred  from  employing  them  be- 
cause he  recognizes  that  the  first  aim  of  his  utterance  is  to 
be  distinctly  understood.  These  expressions,  in  conse- 
quence, are  not  really  expletives  and  redundances.  So  they 
might  be  deemed,  were  men  always  in  a  state  of  mental 
alertness,  so  that  nothing  whatever  escapes  their  attention. 
But  unfortunately  the  human  mind  is  apt  to  be  inattentive. 
It  often  misses  the  sense,  which  in  theory  has  been  suf- 
ficiently expressed  to  be  conveyed  fully.  Therefore  in  every 
tongue  and  at  all  periods  men  resort  to  strictly  superfluous 
words  and  expressions  to  prevent  their  meaning  being 
missed  or  overlooked.  As  one  illustration  out  of  scores, 
take  in  our  own  tongue  the  placing  of  the  preposition,  from 
before  the  adverbs  hence,  thence,  and  ivhencc.  From  the 
fourteenth  century  to  the  present  day  it  has  been  so  em- 
ployed constantly  by  the  best  speakers  and  writers.  Strictly 
speaking,  the  preposition  is  unnecessary.  There  are  places, 
indeed,  where  its  introduction  could  be  deemed  no  other  than 


232  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

an    impertinence.     There   are  other   places   where    it   adds 
distinctly  to  the  ease  of  comprehension. 

Nor  is  clearness  the  only  thing  aimed  at  by  the  users  of 
speech  in  the  employment  of  what  from  one  point  of  view  is 
superfluous.  There  is  equally  the  desire  to  impart  force 
to  expression.  Examples  of  this  abound  on  every  side. 
"Forever  and  ever"  is  a  phrase  that  theoretically  conveys 
no  more  meaning  than  the  simple  "forever" ;  but  it  makes 
more  of  an  impression  upon  the  mind.  Linguistically,  not 
morally,  the  desire  to  strengthen  the  expression  is  the  justi- 
fication of  the  vast  variety  of  expletives  which  make  up  the 
vocabulary  of  profanity.  When  the  practice  of  it  is  fre- 
quent, it  defeats  its  own  end;  but  when  sparingly  indulged 
in,  especially  in  situations  where  great  interests  are  at  stake, 
it  conveys  an  intensity  of  meaning  that  the  mere  words, 
though  carrying  the  full  sense,  do  not  even  remotely  suggest. 

Let  us  now  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  two  other 
opposing  agencies,  always  operating  upon  language,  which 
more  especially  afYect  the  inflectional  system.  They  might 
be  called  the  principles  of  unity  and  diversity;  but  as  these 
words  are  susceptible  of  being  misunderstood,  I  shall  call 
them,  from  the  paths  they  mainly  adopt,  the  principles  of 
analogy  and  authority.  In  the  matter  of  inflection  there 
always  prevails  a  disposition  in  the  users  of  speech  to  reduce 
everything  to  a  common  procedure.  A  certain  form  is  not 
only  in  use,  but  it  is  in  far  the  most  common  use.  The 
principle  of  analogy  at  once  asserts  itself,  for  it  appeals  to 
every  speaker.  As  most  of  certain  classes  of  words  follow 
one  particular  inflection,  why  not  make  them  all  assume  it? 
The  tendency  manifests  itself  to  have  the  leading  form  grow 
at  the  expense  of  the  others,  and  to  discard  from  use  all 
forms  which  are  different  from  it  or  in  conflict  with  it.  It 
does  not  often  meet  with  absolute  success,  to  be  sure,  but 
it   frequently  meets  with  great  success;  and  the  effort  to 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  23:j 

make  its  success  complete  never  ceases.     There  is  no  better 
illustration  of  this  than  the  history  of  the  declension  of  the 
noun  in  English.     When  we  first  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
our  tongue  during  the  Anglo-Saxon  period,  we  find  that 
certain  vowel  declensions  which  had  once  existed  had  very 
largely  passed  away.     The  comparison  of  other  Teutonic 
languages  reveals  what  they  must  have  been.     The  survival 
of  occasional  forms  leads  to  the  unavoidable  inference  that 
there  was  a  time  wdien  these  declensions  were  flourishing; 
indeed,  they  may  have  been  flourishing  at  the  very  time 
itself  in  some  then  existing  dialect  of  v\-hich  no  memorials 
have   been    preserved.     What   these   declensions   had    lost, 
other  declensions  had  gained,  especially  the  one  most  pre- 
dominant.    Owing  to  agencies  of  which  I  shall  speak  later, 
the  process  of  effacement  was  temporarily  arrested,  or  at 
least  was  largely  shorn  of  its  strength.     But  the  moment 
the  restraining  power  of  literature  was  withdrawn  in  conse- 
quence of  the  Norman  Conquest,  the  principle  of  analog}' 
resumed  and  carried  out  its  work  on  a  grand  scale.     When 
English  in  the  fourteenth  century  emerges  with  a  literature 
so  valuable  as  to  possess  an  authority  of  its  own.  not  only 
have  the   varying  vowel   declensions  been   reduced   to   the 
common  inflection  exhibited  by  one  of  them,  but  even  to  that 
has  been  entirely  conformed  the  single  but  important  con- 
sonant declension  which  had  once  been  in  wide  use.     In  the 
case  of  this  last  the  process  has  gone  on  so  steadily  that 
English   furnishes  to-day  but  the  one  word  ox,  with   its 
plural  oxen,  as  the  single  genuine  survival  in  common  speech 
of  a  declension  which  embraced  at  one  time  about  half  the 
noims  of  the  language. 

Powerful  as  is  the  influence  of  analogy  in  reducing  diver- 
sities to  a  common  unity,  there  is  in  existence  an  opposmg 
agency  which  furnishes  resistance  and  at  times  the  sturdiest 
resistance  to  this  leveling  tendency.     This,  which,  for  the 


234  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

lack  of  a  better  name,  1  have  called  the  principle  of  au- 
thority, cherishes  and  strives  to  retain  all  variant  forms  of 
inflection  which  are  actually  in  existence  and  makes  a  deter- 
mined stand  against  any  charge  whatever,  whether  the 
change  would  be  for  the  better  or  the  worse.  That  which 
is  established  has  authority  simply  because  it  is  established. 
This  influence  varies  distinctly  with  the  intellectual  status  of 
the  users  of  speech ;  but  it  is  more  or  less  in  operation  at  all 
times.  In  cultivated  tongues  it  is  exceedingly  pow'erful, 
if  not  actually  dominant.  What  it  saves  from  the  wreck 
which  has  been  brought  about  by  the  principle  of  analogy, 
it  clings  to  earnestly,  and  indeed  will  never  let  go,  if  it  can 
be  avoided.  Illustrations  of  this  tendency  need  not  be 
given  here;  for  they  will  be  exemplified  in  the  part  of  the 
subject  with  which  we  now  come  to  deal. 

These  are  some  of  the  agencies  which  are  always  operat- 
ing upon  the  internal  life  of  a  language.  They  are  largely 
responsible  for  the  changes  which  take  place  slowly  or 
rapidly  in  methods  of  expression.  So  far  as  we  can  dis- 
cover, they  are  true  of  the  speech  of  the  most  illiterate  and 
degraded  races ;  they  are  certainly  true  of  those  which  have 
attamed  any  degree  of  intellectual  development.  This  leads 
us  to  the  next  topic,  the  difference  in  the  agencies  which  act 
upon  cultivated  and  uncultivated  speech. 

It  is  a  mere  commonplace  to  say  that  every  living  lan- 
guage constantly  undergoes  change.  It  may  be  little  or  it 
may  be  great ;  it  may  go  on  very  slowly  or  very  rapidly. 
These  are  the  accidents  of  circumstance.  But  so  long  as  it 
has  life,  it  must  undergo  modification  or  alteration  as  do 
the  persons  who  speak  it. 

These  changes  belong  generally  to  two  classes,  those  af- 
fecting the  vocabulary  and  those  aflfecting  the  grammatical 
structure.  Both  of  these  agencies  are  always  in  operation ; 
but  they  operate  very  differently  at  different  periods  and 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  L':{r. 

under  different  conditions,  llcrc  arises  at  once  the  j;real 
distinction  which  exists  between  the  Hfe  and  ^-rowth  of  cul- 
tivated and  uncultivatetl  speech,  or  perhaps  it  would  he  bet- 
ter to  say  more  specifically  between  speech  with  a  literature 
and  speech  without  one.  The  processes  that  are  goin^  on  in 
each  are  precisely  the  same.  Changes  are  taking  place  in 
each  both  in  grammar  and  vocabulary;  but  they  manifest 
themselves  in  ways  essentially  distinct  and  they  prcKeed  at 
entirely  different  rates  of  movement.  The  differences,  in- 
deed, are  so  marked  that  they  may  be  called  fundamental. 
This  is  not  to  maintain  that  there  will  not  be  in  each  class 
apparent  and  it  may  be  real  exceptions  to  the  rule  laid  down ; 
it  is  only  the  general  principle  which  is  here  stated. 

Now  the  first  point  is  that  in  uncultivated  speech  changes 
in  vocabulary  under  ordinary  conditions  take  place  slowly 
and  on  a  somewhat  petty  scale.  Very  few  new  words  are 
introduced  into  the  speech,  and  any  extension  of  meaning  in 
the  case  of  those  already  existing  happens  rarely.  The 
reason  for  this  lies  on  the  surface.  The  users  of  unculti- 
vated speech  are  themselves  uncultivated.  They  have  com- 
paratively little  knowledge  and  few^  ideas  outside  of  the 
range  of  those  which  are  brought  to  their  attention  by  their 
necessities  or  limited  opportunities  for  observation.  Their 
vocabulary  is  not  ample,  to  start  with,  and  as  time  goes  on 
they  do  not  add  to  it  many  words.  It  is  not  that  any  open 
hostility  exists  to  their  adoption.  They  are  not  introduced 
into  the  speech  because  they  arc  not  needed.  The  circle  of 
knowledge  and  of  thought  being  small,  the  existing  stock 
of  terms  is  amply  sufficient  to  meet  all  the  demands  which 
are  made  upon  it.  Consequently  the  vocabulary  suffers 
little  enlarg-ement,  and  indeed  mav  remain  practically  sta- 
tionary  for  an  indefinite  period,  though  it  is  of  course  liable 
to  be  added  to  whenever  the  desire  for  a  new  word  to  ex- 
press something  previously  unknown  cannot  be  satisfied  by 


236  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

any  new  meaning  which  can  be  attached  to  an  old  word  or 
to  a  combination  of  old  words. 

But  in  the  case  of  the  grammatical  structure  the  reverse 
of  this  is  apt  to  be  true.     It  is  not  so  necessarily,  indeed,  but 
there  is  no  counteracting  agency  powerful  enough  of  itself 
to  prevent  its  being  so.     The  one  great  object  of  speech 
which  every  man,  educated  or  illiterate,  sets  always  before 
his  eyes  is  to  make  himself  understood.     Now  if  the  speaker 
in  an  uncultivated  tongue  succeeds  in  effecting  this,  he  has 
secured  all  that  he  cares  for.     In  so  doing  he  may  discard 
old  forms,  old  inflections ;  or  he  may  unconsciously  develop 
new  ones ;  or  he  may  confuse  wath  one  another  those  which 
already  exist.     He  may  vary  his  expression  essentially  from 
the  construction  which  he  himself  has  been  wont  to  use  as 
well  as  those  he  is  addressing.     But  about  none  of  these 
things  does  he  trouble  himself,  if  he  can  succeed  in  making 
himself  comprehended.     There  is  no  one  to  find  fault  with 
him ;  or  if  such  a  person  could  be  supposed  to  exist,  the  vio- 
lator of  usage  does  not  feel  himself  under  the  least  obliga- 
tion to  heed  the  censure  he  receives.     All  this  implies  that 
in  uncultivated  speech  there  is  nowhere  a  standard  of  au- 
thority of  any  sort  which  any  one  feels  bound  to  respect. 
Consequently  changes  in  grammar   are   effected   easily,   if 
they  are  effected  at  all.     If  outside  agencies  ever  operate 
upon  the  users  of  such  a  speech,  if  these  are  subjected  to 
conquest,  if  they  are  brought  in  frequent  contact  with  the 
speakers  of  another  tongue,  and  are  under  the  necessity  of 
communicating  with  them  constantly,  modifications  of  the 
grammatical  structure  are  likely  to  take  place  on  a  grand 
scale,,  though  the  vocabulary  may  be  affected  but  slightly. 
There  is  no  better  illustration  of  this  principle  than  that 
which  has  actually  happened    in   the  history   of  our  own 
speech.     For  more  than  two  hundred  years  after  the  Nor- 
man Conquest  the  English  added  scarcely  anything  to  their 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  MimiOD^  237 

stock  of  words  from  the  language  of  the  men  of  the  race  to 
w!iom  they  had  become  subject,  though  w  ith  them  they  came 
into  constant  contact.  On  the  other  hand,  during  this  same 
period  the  grammatical  structure  underwent  violent  and 
extensive  alteration. 

Such  are  the  principles  which  control  the  development  of 
unlettered  speech.  In  exceptional  circumstances  these  mas- 
undergo  modification,  and  perhaps  in  some  instances  re- 
versal; but  their  general  applicability  to  the  facts  of  lin- 
guistic history  cannot  well  be  gainsaid.  But  the  moment  a 
speech  comes  into  the  possession  of  a  great  literature,  this 
condition  of  things  is  changed.  The  same  agencies  are  at 
work  as  in  the  case  of  an  uncultivated  tongue;  but  they  vary 
distinctly  in  the  influence  they  exert,  and  the  results  in  con- 
sequence are  in  striking  contrast  to  those  just  given. 

In  cultivated  speech  addition  to  the  \ocabulary  goes  on 
extensively,  goes  on  rapidly.  Furthermore  it  goes  on  with 
little  opposition.  The  hostility  to  the  introduction  of  new 
terms  is  almost  invariably  directed  against  particular  words, 
and  in  the  case  of  these  it  is  often  confined  to  particular 
persons.  It  therefore  takes  the  form  of  an  expression  of 
individual  prejudice  and  not  that  of  general  aversion  on 
the  part  of  users  of  speech.  In  cultivated  speech  addition 
to  the  vocabulary  is  in  truth  a  necessity  of  the  situation. 
The  circle  of  knowledge  and  thought  is  constantly  enlarg- 
ing. The  new  facts  learned,  the  new  discoveries  made,  the 
new  inventions  originated,  the  new  ideas  entertained,  the 
new  distinctions  set  up,  all  these  demand  either  the  use  of 
old  words  in  new  senses  or  the  introduction  or  formation 
of  new  words.  The  latter  is  the  course  most  usually  fol- 
lowed. It  is  not,  nor  is  it  felt  to  be  objectionable.  Men 
indeed  frequently  make  it  a  matter  of  boast  that  they  were 
the  first  to  hit  upon  the  employment  of  some  term  which 
designates  exactly  the  view  of  some  new  fact  or  theory  or 


238  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

condition  which  all  recognize  but  have  found  difficult  to 
express.  The  irruption  of  a  large  number  of  words  hither- 
to unknown  into  a  speech  is  under  the  circumstances  just 
mentioned  not  an  indication  of  the  corruption  or  decay  of  a 
language,  but  an  evidence  of  the  intellectual  health  and 
vigor  of  its  users.  Scores  and  even  hundreds  of  terms  will 
be  proposed  for  admission  which  find  no  permanent  lodg- 
ment; for  speech  can  ordinarily  be  trusted  to  reject  that 
which  is  really  needless,  that  which  adds  nothing  to  clear- 
ness or  to  force  of  expression ;  on  the  other  hand,  to  choose 
and  to  hold  fast  with  an  instinct  which  may  almost  be 
deemed  unerring  that  which  it  requires  for  its  best  and  full- 
est development. 

Consequently  in  a  cultivated  tongue  the  introduction  of 
new  words  is  something  that  is  going  on  constantly  when- 
ever and  wherever  intellectual  life  exists.  But  when  to  such 
a  tongue  comes  the  consideration  of  new  grammatical  forms 
or  constructions,  there  ensues  at  once  a  complete  change  of 
front.  The  attitude,  instead  of  being  one  of  friendliness  or 
acquiescence,  is  that  of  violent  hostility.  The  newcomer 
meets  with  examination  from  everybody  and  with  denun- 
ciation from  many.  There  is  a  feeling  on  the  part  of  the 
cultivated  users  of  speech  that  any  alteration  of  grammatical 
structure  cannot  be  an  improvement  upon  existing  usage,  as 
would  be  conceded  by  all  in  the  case  of  the  introduction  of 
some  new  word.  Rightly  or  wrongly  the  disposition  does 
not  prevail  to  look  upon  it  as  a  process  of  evolution.  So  far 
as  it  goes,  it  is  regarded  as  revolution,  and  therefore  to  be 
resisted.  Accordingly  no  change  can  take  place  in  the 
grammar  of  a  cultivated  speech  which  is  not  compelled  to 
fight  its  way  to  acceptance.  It  never  succeeds  without  go- 
ing through  a  struggle  w^hich  lasts  at  least  scores  of  years. 
If  it  triumphs,  it  triumphs  because  it  recommends  itself  to 
the  users  of  speech  as  accomplishing  something  for  expres- 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  239 

sion  which  had  not  previously  been  secured.  If  once  they 
become  thoroughly  imbued  with  that  view,  vain  are  the 
protests  of  purists  and  grammarians ;  for  the  educated  users 
of  speech  know  better  what  they  want  than  any  or  all  of 
their  self-constituted  instructors. 

The  reason  for  this  contrast  between  the  attitudes  as- 
sumed by  lettered  and  unlettered  speech  is  due  to  a  factor 
which  has  at  all  times  played  an  important  part  in  the  de- 
velopment of  language,  but  with  the  wide  diffusion  of  edu- 
cation in  modern  times  is  destined  to  play  one  still  more 
important.  This  is  the  creation  of  literature.  Its  exist- 
ence in  any  tongue  tends  immediately  to  weaken  or  over- 
throw entirely  other  influences  which  have  been  operating 
upon  the  speech.  Few  even  among  scholars  have  learned  to 
appreciate  fully  the  conservative  influence  which  literature 
exerts  over  language.  Men  used  to  take  the  ground  that 
speech  was  always  moving  away  from  its  sources ;  that  the 
longer  a  tongue  continued  to  live,  the  more  increasingly 
difficult  of  comprehension  became  its  earlier  form  to  its  later 
speakers.  There  is,  or  at  least  there  may  be,  a  great  deal 
of  truth  in  this  view  so  long  as  we  confine  our  attention  to 
tongues  which  can  boast  of  no  literary  monuments  of  ex- 
cellence. It  becomes  absolutely  false,  however,  after  a  great 
literature  has  been  created  and  has  become  widely  diffused. 
If  the  speech  then  undergoes  changes  on  any  great  scale, 
that  result  will  be  owing  to  outside  influences  and  not  to 
any  which  belong  to  its  own  natural  development. 

Yet  this  belief  about  the  steady  recession  of  speech  from 
its  sources  has  lasted  long  after  any  reason  for  it  has  dis- 
appeared. Even  to-day  it  can  be  heard  occasionally  ex- 
pressed. It  is  therefore  not  surprising  to  find  it  once  widely 
prevalent.  By  the  great  authors  of  the  time  of  Qiieen  .^nne 
and  the  first  Georges  dismal  forebodings  were  universally 
entertained  and  frequently  uttered  as  to  the  ruin  which  was 


24Q  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

to  overtake  their  own  writings,  in  consequence  of  the 
changes  constantly  going  on  in  English  speech.  Their 
works,  they  complained,  could  not  hope  to  outlast  a  century, 
unless  the  language  became  what  they  called  fixed,  and  they 
were  in  perpetual  distress  of  mind  because  some  person  or 
some  organization  could  not  be  induced  to  undertake  and 
accomplish  that  impossible  feat. 

The  fact  which  these  men  did  not  perceive  at  all,  and 
w^hich  is  none  too  clearly  comprehended  now,  is  that  the 
moment  a  great  literature  has  been  established,  the  language 
revolves  about  it,  and,  so  long  as  a  healthy  national  life 
exists,  never  moves  far  away  from  it.  The  great  authors 
are  read  and  studied  everywhere  and  at  all  times.  They 
make  familiar  to  the  knowledge  of  their  admirers  the  words 
and  constructions  they  employ ;  and  these  in  turn  are  repro- 
duced by  their  imitators.  The  operation  of  this  influence 
has  been  curiously  illustrated  in  the  history  of  our  own 
tongue.  To  us  the  language  of  the  Elizabethan  age  is  much 
nearer  than  it  was  to  the  men  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
mainly  because  the  authors  of  that  earlier  age  are  now  much 
more  read.  As  a  result  their  words  and  usages  have  un- 
consciously become  a  part  of  our  own  intellectual  equipment. 
Very  few  would  be  the  men  found  now  who  would  take 
the  view,  widely  entertained  at  the  beginning  of  the  eight- 
eenth century,  that  a  great  deal  of  Shakespeare's  language 
was  not  merely  archaic  but  practically  obsolete.  The  nu- 
merous imitators  of  Spenser  later  in  that  same  century 
furnished  glossaries  to  their  productions,  explaining  the 
antiquated  or  unusual  terms  they  had  employed.  In  some 
cases  this  was  needed  distinctly ;  for  the  words  they  used  had 
never  any  existence  outside  of  their  own  pages.  But  they 
freauently  defined  those  about  whose  meaning  no  man  of 
ordinary  education  would  now  entertain  a  doubt.  Even 
the  necessity  they  seemed  to  have  felt  themselves  under  of 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  241 

explaining  the  more  purely  poetic  words  excites  a  certain 
surprise.  What  poet  would  think  now  of  apologizint^.  as 
did  Prior  in  1706,  for  using  such  obsolete  words,  as  he 
called  them,  as  behest  in  the  carefully  defined  sense  of  "com- 
mand," band  in  that  of  "army,"  /  ween  in  that  of  "I  think." 
prozvess  in  that  of  "strength,"  and  zvhilom  in  that  of  "here- 
tofore." Some  of  these  very  definitions  show  too  that  in 
all  cases  he  did  not  understand  the  exact  meaning  of  the 
word  he  employed. 

But  far  more  than  in  the  vocabulary  is  the  conserving 
power  of  literature — especially  of  a  great  literature — ex- 
hibited in  the  grammatical  structure.  The  moment  it  has 
been  in  existence  long  enough  to  make  its  influence  felt,  it  at 
once  proceeds  to  restrict  change  there  within  the  closest 
possible  limits ;  or  if  it  permits  any  to  be  made  with  com- 
parative ease,  its  action  is  directed  in  such  instances  to  the 
selection  of  one  out  of  two  or  more  forms  in  common  use. 
Let  me  illustrate  its  methods  in  this  particular  by  a  reference 
to  the  history  of  the  two  conjugations  of  our  tongue.  After 
the  Norman  Conquest  English  lost  the  literature  she  pos- 
sessed which  had  attached  to  it  any  authority.  Though  not 
entirely  disused  as  a  written  speech,  there  existed  no  stanrl- 
ard  to  which  any  one  felt  bound  to  conform.  In  conse- 
quence a  general  dissolution  of  the  grammatical  structure 
took  place.  One  of  its  results  was  that  verbs  of  the  strong 
conjugation  went  over  to  the  weak  in  great  numbers.  It 
seemed  for  a  while  as  if  it  were  merely  a  question  of  time 
when  every  one  of  the  former  would  disappear  from  the 
language.  Analog}-  was  entirely  against  them.  .Vny  new 
verbs  that  came  in,  and  a  full  half,  if  not  the  majority,  of  the 
old  ones  formed  their  preterite  by  a  syllable  usually  repre- 
sented in  modern  English  by  -ed  or  -d.  Why  should  not 
this  rule  be  extended  to  all?  This  was  a  feeling  that 
operated  constantly  upon  men  before  they  came  into  the 


242  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

possession  of  a  literature.  So  general  was  the  movement, 
so  large  were  the  losses  of  the  strong  conjugation,  that  this 
early  transition  has  imposed  upon  the  men  of  later  times. 
There  were  not  wanting  in  the  nineteenth  century  linguistic 
scholars  of  considerable  eminence  who  gravely  announced 
that  the  strong  conjugation  was  destined  to  disappear  from 
English  speech.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  moment  that 
literature  had  been  widely  enough  diffused  to  exert  its 
full  influence,  the  transition  of  verbs  of  the  strong  con- 
jugation to  the  weak  ceased  entirely.  Not  an  instance  can 
be  pointed  out  where  a  single  one  of  these  verbs  has  gone 
over  since  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  Not  the  least  sign 
of  any  movement  of  this  nature  manifests  itself  now.  On 
the  contrary,  the  tendency  is,  if  anything,  in  the  reverse 
direction. 

But  literature  does  not  content  itself  wnth  merely  arrest- 
ing change  which  is  going  on  in  grammatical  forms.  It 
presents  a  hostile  attitude  to  anything  which  takes  the  shape 
of  grammatical  innovation.  That  which  already  exists  has 
been  found  sufficient  by  the  great  writers  of  the  past  to  do 
all  that  is  required  for  expression.  What  then  can  be  the 
need  of  new  forms,  of  new  constructions,  of  which  they, 
far  greater  than  we,  did  not  feel  the  lack  ?  To  add  anything 
whatever  seems  therefore  of  the  nature  of  an  attempt  to 
paint  the  lily.  This  is  the  reason  why  every  effort  of  the 
nature  of  innovation  meets,  in  the  case  of  the  grammatical 
structure,  with  hostility  so  general  and  with  denunciation  so 
violent.  It  is  the  exhortation  of  literature  to  stand  fast  by 
the  ancient  ways. 

But  the  users  of  speech  are  always  striving  for  greater 
clearness  and  force  of  expression.  If  the  existing  forms 
and  constructions  do  not  exactly  meet  their  requirements, 
they  will  cast  about  for  ways  to  secure  what  they  are  aiming 
at.     Let  me  illustrate  this  principle  by  a  further  example 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  243 

from  our  speech.  For  a  long  period  modern  ICnglish  suf- 
fered from  the  lack  of  a  distinct  form  for  tlie  passive  which 
would  apply  to  all  verbs.  The  inllection  in  common  use  was 
made  up  of  the  substantive  verb  with  the  past  participle  of 
another  verb.  This  worked  very  well  in  many  cases,  es- 
pecially so  in  the  case  of  words  wdiich  denoted  a  continuous 
action  or  state  of  mind.  The  phrase,  "the  man  is  loved  or 
is  hated,"  conveys  adequately  the  sense  of  the  sj)eaker  when 
he  is  referring  to  the  present  time.  But  when  the  word 
employed  itself  denoted  a  single  act,  the  form  just  mentioned 
meant  an  action  fully  completed  and  not  one  in  process  of 
going  on.  It  was  really  something  past  which  was  indicated 
and  not  anything  present.  The  phrase  "the  man  is  killed" 
could  not  possibly  suggest  the  idea  that  the  subject  of  the 
verb  was  merely  in  danger  of  death ;  it  meant  that  he  was 
actually  dead.  The  form  therefore,  as  applicable  to  all 
verbs,  broke  down. 

There  is  hardly  anything  more  interesting  in  the  history 
of  our  speech  than  the  various  devices  to  which  speakers  and 
writers  resorted  to  get  round  the  difficulty  the  construction 
of  the  passive  presented,  the  efforts  they  put  forth  to  con- 
trive something  which  would  be  of  universal  applicability. 
The  various  attempts  made  give  us  a  peculiarly  vivid  con- 
ception of  the  infinite  pains  that  are  taken  in  speech,  often 
unconsciously,  to  render  expression  clear.  All  of  these 
efforts  were  for  a  long  time  unsatisfactory.  They  involved 
a  change  of  coustruction  or  a  change  of  the  form  of  the 
sentence  or  they  were  made  ineffective  by  the  clumsiness  of 
circumlocution.  At  last  a  way  w-as  opened.  A  construc- 
tion already  existed  in  the  speech  which,  though  fully  au- 
thorized, belonged  in  its  origin  to  the  class  of  so-called  cor- 
ruptions. To  certain  verbs,  but  especially  to  the  substantive 
verb,  a  verbal  noun  preceded  by  the  preposition  on  or  in  had 
been  added  to  complete  the  sense,  as,  for  instance,  "he  was 


244  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

gone  on  hunting."  The  form  of  the  connecting  preposition 
was  in  the  first  place  corrupted  into  a;  finahy  it  was  dropped 
altogether.  This  caused  the  verbal  noun,  when  joined  to 
the  substantive  verb,  to  be  regarded  not  as  a  noun,  but  as  the 
present  participle;  but  a  present  participle,  not  in  its  usual 
active  signification,  but  in  the  sense  of  a  passive.  Hence 
arose  such  expressions  as  ''the  dinner  is  preparing,"  "the 
house  is  building."  In  these  the  verb  is  active  in  form  but 
passive  in  meaning.  But  the  goal  could  not  be  reached  in 
this  way.  The  form  suffered  from  exactly  the  same  em- 
barrassment which  attended  the  ordinary  one  with  the  past 
participle.  Satisfactory  with  certain  verbs,  it  could  not  be 
used  with  all.  The  moment  an  object  with  life  was  intro- 
duced as  the  subject,  the  passive  sense  disappeared.  When 
we  hear  it  said  that  "a  man  is  eating,"  we  think  of  him  as 
the  doer  of  an  action  and  not  the  object  of  one.  It  does  not 
occur  to  us  that  he  himself  is  undergoing  mastication  from 
others.  Here,  too,  in  consequence  the  form  broke  down. 
It  was  to  remedy  this  condition  of  things  that  the  verb  to  be 
was  at  last  united  with  the  compound  past  participle.  This 
passive  form  conveyed  an  unmistakable  meaning,  and  if  de- 
sired could  be  applied  to  any  verb  whatever.  When  we  are 
told,  to  use  the  previous  illustration,  that  "a  man  is  being 
eaten,"  there  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  in  the  mind  of  any 
one  as  to  what  is  actually  taking  place. 

This  particular  form  first  began  to  be  distinctly  noticeable 
towards  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  For  a  while, 
however,  it  attracted  but  little  attention.  But  no  sooner  did 
the  sentinels  who  profess  to  watch  over  the  purity  of  speech 
have  their  attention  called  to  it,  than  a  violent  outcry  at  once 
arose.  Few  at  the  present  day  have  any  conception  of  the 
clamor  to  which  this  new  grammatical  form  gave  rise 
during  the  early  and  middle  part  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
and  of  the  denunciation  to  which  it  was  subjected.     Accord- 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  24r. 

ing  to  its  assailants  its  introduction  and  use  was  a  distinct 
foreshadowing  of  the  ruin  that  was  imix.Miding  over  the 
speech.  Direful  consequences  were  predicted  if  the  objec- 
tionable form  should  succeed  in  establishing  itself  in  the 
language.  But  the  construction  was  too  desirable  an  ac- 
quisition to  be  allowed  to  disappear.  Its  usefulness  pre- 
vailed over  all  opposition,  and  at  present  it  is  fully  accepted, 
or  meets  at  least  only  now  and  then  with  a  protest  from 
some  belated  survivor  of  the  conflict  which  once  raged  so 
violently. 

It  must  not  be  forgotten,  however,  that  the  hostility  to  the 
introduction  of  new  grammatical  forms,  though  sometimes 
manifesting  itself  absurdly,  is  an  undeniably  healthy  hos- 
tility. So  long  as  it  continues,  the  sijeech  can  be  trusted  to 
remain  steadfast  to  its  moorings.  It  is  the  existence  of  this 
feeling  which  keeps  a  language  moving  not  from  but  about 
its  literature.  The  vocabulary  can  be  increased  almost  in- 
definitely without  affecting  the  character  or  intelligibility  of 
the  tongue  which  retains  in  familiar  use  the  words  em- 
ployed by  its  greatest  writers.  But  the  moment  its  gram- 
matical construction  undergoes  a  violent  upheave!,  that 
moment  the  language  is  on  the  road  to  decay  and  death. 
For  additions  there,  unlike  those  made  to  the  vocabulary,  do 
not  range  themselves  alongside  of  the  ones  already  in  use.  or 
usurp  at  best  merely  a  part  of  the  domain  of  significance.  .\ 
new  grammatical  form  is  not  long  content  with  standnig 
side  by  side  w^ith  an  old  one.  It  first  displaces  it  from  its 
supremacy,  and  then  supersedes  it  altogether:  and  this 
means  in  process  of  time  a  complete  change  in  the  character 
of  the  tongue. 

From  the  hasty  consideration  which  has  been  given  here 
of  the  characteristics  which  attend  the  development  of  culti- 
vated speech,  we  are  enabled  to  draw  certain  positive  con- 
clusions.    A  language  cannot  be  made  either  to  improve  or 


246  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

degenerate  of  itself.  It  is  nothing  but  the  reflex  of  the 
spirit  and  aims  of  the  men  who  employ  it,  and  it  will  rise  or 
fall  in  accordance  with  their  intellectual  and  moral  condition. 
Its  continued  existence,  therefore,  depends  solely  upon  the 
fact  whether  the  men  to  whom  it  is  an  inheritance  are  cul- 
tivated enough  to  enrich  its  literature,  virtuous  enough  to 
elevate  and  maintain  its  character,  and  strong  enough  to 
uphold  and  extend  its  sway.  All  these  conditions  are  neces- 
sary to  its  permanence,  but  in  modern  times  the  last  has 
attained  an  importance  it  never  before  held.  The  most  in- 
significant of  tongues  has,  it  is  true,  tremendous  vitality;  it 
will  cling  to  life  long  after  the  most  conclusive  reasons  have 
manifested  themselves  for  its  death.  Yet  it  is  a  question 
whether  under  modern  conditions  any  language  can  be  sure 
of  continued  existence  which  does  not  have  behind  it  the 
support  of  a  great  nationality.  It  is  a  question  whether  the 
languages  of  smaller  peoples  will  not  recede  before  the  en- 
croachments of  their  powerful  neighbors,  just  as  dialects 
steadily  tend  to  disappear  before  the  advance  of  the  literary 
speech. 

At  all  events  the  danger  which  once  threatened  cultivated 
languages  from  the  limitation  of  the  knowledge  of  their 
literature  to  a  comparatively  small  number  of  men,  has 
largely  disappeared  with  the  invention  of  printing  and  the 
diffusion  of  education  which  increasingly  reaches  every  one 
in  the  community,  the  low  as  well  as  the  high.  Forecasts 
about  the  future  of  any  speech  and  its  permanence  must 
therefore  now  be  made  subject  to  conditions  which  never 
before  prevailed.  The  one  thing  only,  which  has  been  in- 
dicated, can  be  relied  upon  with  certainty.  The  continuance 
of  any  language  rests  upon  the  ability,  upon  the  character, 
upon  the  strength  of  the  men  to  whom  it  belongs.  Its 
literature  may  be  its  glory.  It  may  be  a  source  of  just  pride 
to  the  race  which  has  created  it  or  has  inherited  it.     But 


CONCEPTIONS  AND  METHODS  247 

however  rich  and  varied  it  be,  it  cannot  of  itself  preserve  its 
life  though  it  may  retard  its  death  and  hallow  its  memory. 
No  tongue  can  depend  for  its  continuance  upon  the  achieve- 
ments of  its  past.  It  can  exhibit  no  more  than  the  vigor, 
the  purity,  and  the  vitality  of  the  men  who  speak  it  now,  or 
are  to  speak  it  hereafter :  and  if  their  vigor,  their  purity, 
and  their  vitality  disappear,  the  language  as  a  living  speech 
will  not  survive  their  decay. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  LAN- 
GUAGE DURING  THE  LAST  CENTURY. 

BY   BENJAMIN    IDE    WHEELER 

[Benjamin  Ide  Wheeler,  President  of  the  University  of  California, 
b.  July  15,  1854,  Randolph,  Massachusetts.  Brown  University. 
1875;  A.M.  1878;  Ph.D.  Heidelberg,  1885;  LL.D.  Princeton,  1896; 
Harvard,  1900;  Brown.  1900;  Yale,  1901;  Johns  Hopkins,  1902; 
University  of  Wisconsin,  1904;  Illinois  College,  1904;  Dartmouth, 
1905.  Professor  of  Comparative  Philology,  1886,  and  of  Greek, 
1888,  Cornell  University;  Professor  of  Greek,  American  School 
of  Classical  Studies,  Athens,  Greece,  1896.  Member  of  American 
Philological  Association,  American  Oriental  Society,  The  Society 
for  the  Promotion  of  Hellenic  Studies.  Corresponding  Mem- 
ber of  Kaiserlichen  Archaeologischen  Institut.  Aitikih  of  The 
Greek  Noun  Accent;  Analogy  in  Language ;  Introduction  to  the 
History  of  Language;  Dionysos  and  Immortality ;  Organization 
of  the  Higher  Education  in  the  United  States;  Life  of  Alexander 
the  Great,  etc.] 

It  cannot  be  the  purpose  of  this  brief  address  to  present 
even  in  outHne  a  history  of  the  science  of  language  in  the 
century  past;  it  can  undertake  only  to  set  forth  the  chief 
motives  and  directions  of  its  development. 

A  hundred  years  ago  this  year  (1904)  Friedrich  von 
Schlegel  was  in  Paris  studying  Persian  and  the  mysterious, 
new-found  Sanskrit;  Franz  Bopp  was  a  thirteen-year-old 
student  in  the  gymnasium  at  Aschaffenburg ;  Jakob  Grimm 
was  studying  law  in  the  University  of  Marburg.  And  yet 
these  three  were  to  be  the  men  who  should  find  the  paths 
by  which  the  study  of  human  speech  might  escape  from 
its  age-long  wanderings  in  a  wilderness  without  track  or 
cairn  or  clue,  and  issue  forth  upon  oriented  highways  as  a 
veritable  science. 

Schlegel  the  Romanticist,  who  had  peered  into  Sanskrit 
literature  in  the  interest  of  the  fantastic  humanism  modish 
in  his  dav,  happened  to  demonstrate  (Ucbcr  die  Sprachc 
und  Weisheit  der  Inder,  1808)  beyond  cavil  the  existence 

249 


250  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

of  a  genetic  relationship  between  the  chief  members  of 
what  we  now  know  as  the  Indo-European  family  of  lan- 
guages. Bopp  ^  found  a  way  to  utiHze  this  demonstrated 
fact  in  a  quest  which,  though  now  recognized  as  mostly 
vain,  incidentally  set  in  operation  the  mechanism  of  com- 
parative grammar.  Grimm,-  under  the  promptings  of  a 
national  enthusiasm,  sought  after  the  sources  of  the  Ger- 
man national  life,  and,  finding  in  language  as  in  lore  the 
roots  of  the  present  deep  planted  in  the  past,  laid  the  foun- 
dations and  set  forth  the  method  of  historical  grammar. 
The  grafting  of  comparative  grammar  upon  the  stock  of 
historical  grammar  gave  it  wider  range  and  yielded  the 
scientific  grammar  of  the  nineteenth  century.  The  method 
of  comparative  grammar  is  merely  auxiliary  to  historical 
grammar;  it  establishes  determinations  of  fact  far  behind 
the  point  of  earliest  record,  and  enables  historical  grammar 
to  push  its  lines  of  descent  in  the  form  of  "  dotted  lines  " 
far  back  into  the  unwritten  past. 

It  was  the  discovery  of  Sanskrit  to  the  attention  and 
use  of  European  scholars  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth 
century  that  gave  occasion  to  an  effective  use  of  the  com- 
parative method  and  a  consequent  establishment  of  a  ver- 
itable comparative  grammar.  But  in  two  other  distinct 
ways  it  exercised  a  notable  influence  upon  the  study  of 
language.  First,  it  offered  to  observation  a  language  whose 
structure  yielded  itself  readily  to  analysis  in  terms  of  the 
adaptation  of  its  formal  mechanism  to  the  expression  of 
modifications  of  thought,  and  thus  gave  an  encouragement 
to  the  dissection  of  words  in  the  interest  of  tracing  the 
principles  of  their  formation.  Second,  the  Hindoo  national 
grammar  itself  presented  to  Western  scholars  an  illustra- 
tion of  accuracy  and  completeness  in  collecting,  codifying, 


*  First  work:  Conjugationssystem  der  Sanskritsprache,  1816. 
'Deutsche  Gramatik,  vol.  1  (1819). 


PROGRESS  DURING  LAST  CI<:XTURY      251 

and  reporting  tlie  facts  of  a  language,  especially  such  as 
related  to  phonology,  inflection,  and  word-formation,  that 
involved  the  necessity  of  a  complete  revolution  in  the  whole- 
attitude  of  grammatical  procedure.  The  discovery  of 
Panini  and  the  Prati(,'akhyas  neant  far  more  to  the  science 
of  language  than  the  discovery  of  the  Vedas.  The  gram- 
mar of  the  Greeks  had  marked  a  path  so  clear,  and  estab- 
lished a  tradition  so  strong,  guaranteed  in  a  prestige  so 
high,  that  the  linguistics  of  the  West  through  all  the  gen- 
erations faithfully  abode  in  the  way.  'i'he  grammatical 
categories  once  taught  and  established  became  the  irre- 
fragable moulds  of  grammatical  thought,  and  constituted 
a  system  so  complete  in  its  enslaving  power  that  if  any 
man  ever  suspected  himself  in  bondage  he  was  yet  unable 
to  identify  his  bonds. 

The  Greeks  had  addressed  themselves  to  linguistic  re- 
flection in  connection  with  their  study  of  the  content  and 
the  forms  of  thought;  grammar  arose  as  the  handmaiden 
of  philosophy.  They  assumed,  without  consciously  and 
expressly  formulating  it  as  a  doctrine,  that  language  is 
the  inseparable  shadow  of  thought,  and  therefore  proceeded 
without  more  ado  to  find  in  its  structure  and  parts  replicas 
of  the  substances  and  moulds  of  thought.  They  sought 
among  the  facts  of  language  for  illustrations  of  theories; 
it  did  not  occur  to  them  to  collect  the  facts  and  organize 
them  to  yield  their  own  doctrine.  Two  distinct  practical 
uses  finally  brought  the  chief  materials  of  rules  and  prin- 
ciples to  formulation  in  the  guise  of  a  system  of  descrip- 
tive grammar:  first,  the  interpretation  of  Homer  and  the 
establishment  of  a  correct  text;  second,  the  teaching  of 
Greek  to  aliens,  and  the  establishment  of  a  standard  by 
which  to  teach.  These  practical  uses  came  in.  however, 
rather  as  fortunate  opportunities  for  practical  application 
of    an    established    discipline   than    as    the   motives    to    its 


252  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

creation.     With   the  Hindoos   it   was  the   direct  reverse. 
They  had  a  sacred  language  and  sacred  texts  rescued  from 
earher  days  by  means  of  oral  tradition.     The  meaning  of 
the  texts  had  grown  hazy,  but  the  word  was  holy,  and  even 
though  it  remained  but  an  empty  shell  to  human  under- 
standing, it  was  pleasing  to  the  gods  and  had  served  its 
purpose  through  the  generations  to  bring  gods  and  men 
into  accord,  and  must  be  preserved ;  likewise  the  language 
of  ritual  and  comment  thereon,   which,  as  the  possession 
of  a  limited  class,  required  not  only  to  be  protected  from 
overwhelming  beneath   the   floods   of  the   vernacular,   but 
demanded  to  be  extended  to  the  use  of  wider  circles  in  the 
dominant   castes.      Sanskrit   had   already  become  a   mori- 
bund or  semi-artificial  language  before  grammar  laid  hold 
upon  it  to  continue  and  extend  it.     But  from  the  outstart 
the  Hindoo  grammarian  sat  humbly  at  the  feet  of  lanjfuage 
to  learn  of  it,  and  never  assumed  to  be  its  master  or  its 
guide.     Inasmuch  as  the  language  had  existed  and  been 
perpetuated  primarily  as  a  thing  of  the  living  voice  and  not 
of  ink  and  paper,   and  had  been  used  to  reach  the  ears 
rather  than  the  eyes  of  the  divine,  it  followed,  in  a  measure 
remotely  true  of  no  other  grammatical  endeavor,  that  the 
Hindoo  grammar  was  compelled   to   devote   itself   to  the 
most  exactingly  accurate   report  upon  the  sounds  of   the 
language.     The  niceties  of  phonetic  discrimination  repre- 
sented in  the  alphabet  itself,  the  refinements  of  observation 
involved  m  the  reports  on  accent  and  the  phenomenon  of 
pluti,  the  formulation  of     the  principles  of  sentence  pho- 
netics in  the  rules  of  sandhi,  the  observation  on  the  phy- 
siology of  speech  scattered  through  the  Pratigakhyas  are 
all  brilliant   illustrations  of  the   Hindoo's  direct  approach 
to  the  real  substance  of  living  speech.     None  of  the  national 
systems  of  grammar,  the  Chinese,  the  Egyptian,  the  As- 
syrian, the  Greek,  or  the  Arabic,  had  anything  to  show 


PROGRESS  DURING  LAST  CKN'Tl'RV      9,r>?, 

remotely  comparable  to  this;  and  up  to  ilic  beginninfj  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  despite  all  the  loi;{^  endeavors  ex- 
pended on  Greek  and  Hel^rcw  and  Latin,  nothinj^  remotely 
like  it  had  been  known  to  the  W'estern  world.     The  Greek 
grammarians  had  really  never  stormed  the  barriers  of  writ- 
ten language ;  they  were  mostly  concerned  with  establish- 
ing and   teaching  literary   forms  of  the  language.      Even 
when  they  deal  with  the  dialects,  they  had  the  standardized 
literary   types   thereof  before   their   eyes   rather   than    the 
spoken  forms  ringing  in  their  ears.     When  the  grammars 
of  Colebrooke   (1S05),  of  Carey  (1800),  and  of  Wilkins 
(1808)    opened   the  knowledge  of   Sanskrit   to   European 
scholars,  it  involved  nothing  short  of  a  grammatical  revela- 
tion, and  prepared  the  way  for  an  ultimate  remodeling  of 
language-study   nothing   short   of   a   revolution.     Though 
these  Hindoo  lessons  in  accurate  phonetics  as  the  basis  of 
sure  knowledge  and  safe  procedure  had   their  immediate 
and  unmistakable  influence  upon  the  scientific  work  of  the 
first  half  century,  their'   full  acceptance  tarried  until  the 
second   half   was   well  on    its   way.     Even  Jakob   Grimm, 
whose  service  in  promoting  the  historical  study  of  phon- 
ology must  be  rated  with  the  highest,  was  still  so  blind  to 
the  necessity  of  phonetics  as  to  express  the  view  that  his- 
torical grammar  could  be  excused  from  much  attention  to 
the  "  bunte  wirrwar  mundartlicher  lautverhaltnisse,"   and 
though  von  Raumer  in  his  Die  Aspiration  unci  die  laut- 
verschiehung  (1837)  had  not  only  set  forth  in  all  clearness 
the  theoretical  necessity  of  a  phonetic  basis,  but  had  given 
practical  illustration  thereof  in  the  material  with  which  he 
was  dealing,  it  still  was  possible  as  late  as  1868  for  Scherer 
in  his  Gcschichtc  dcr  deutschcn  Sprachc  justly  to  deplore 
that  ''  only  rarely  is  a  philologist  found  who  is  willing  to 
enter  upon   phonetic   discussion."     The  phonetic   treatises 

1  Of.  H.  Oertel.  Lectures  on  the  Study  of  Language,  p.  30  ff.   (1901). 


254  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

of  Briicke'  (1849  and  18G6)  and  of  Merkel  (185G  and 
1866)-  failed,  though  excellent  of  their  kind,  to  bring  the 
subject  within  the  range  of  philological  interest,  and  it 
remained  for  Eduard  Sievers  in  his  Gnindaiigc  dcr  Laiit- 
physiologic  (1876)  and  Grund.ziigc  dcr  Phonctik  (1881), 
by  stating  phonetics  more  in  terms  of  phonology,  to  bridge 
the  gap  and  establish  phonetics  as  a  constituent  and  funda- 
mental portion  of  the  science  of  language.  The  radical 
change  of  character  assumed  by  the  science  in  the  last 
quarter  of  the  century  is  due  as  much  to  the  consummation 
of  this  union  as  to  any  one  influence. 

But  it  was  not  phonetics  alone  that  the  Indian  gram- 
marians were  able  to  teach  to  the  W^est ;  they  had  devel- 
oped, in  their  processes  of  identifying  the  roots  of  words, 
a  scientific  phonology  that  was  all  but  an  historical  pho- 
nology. In  some  of  its  applications  it  was  that  already, 
for  in  explaining  the  relations  to  each  other  of  various 
forms  of  a  given  root  as  employed  in  different  words, 
even  though  the  explanation  was  intended  to  serve  the  pur- 
poses of  word-analysis  and  not  of  sound-history,  the  gram- 
marians virtually  formulated  in  repeated  instances  what 
we  now  know  as  "  phonetic  laws."  The  recognition  of 
giina  and  vrddhi,  which  antedates  Panini,  must  rank  as 
one  of  the  most  brilliant  inductive  discoveries  in  the  history 
of  linguistic  science.  The  theory  involved  became  the  basis 
of  the  treatment  of  the  Indo-European  vocalism.  The  first 
thorough -going  formulation,  that  of  Schleicher  in  his  Com- 
pendium (1861),  was  conceived  entirely  in  the  Hindoo 
sense,  and  it  was  to  the  opportunity  which  this  formulation 
offered  of  overseeing  the  material  and  the  problems  in- 
volved  that  we  owe  the  brilliant  series  of  investigations 


1  E.  Briicke,  Untersiichiingcn  iiber  dieLautbildxing  und  das  natiirliche  fiystem 
der  Sprachlaute  (1849)  ;  Grundziige  der  Physiologie  und  Systematik  der 
Sprachlaute    (1856). 

-  C.  L.  Merkel,  Anatomic  und  Physiologie  des  menschlichen  Stimm-  und 
Sprachorgans   (1856)  ;  Physiologie  der  menschlicheti  Sprache   (1866). 


PROGRESS  DURING  LAST  CEXTL'RV      2.'ir. 

by  Georg  Curtius  (Spaltung  dcs  a-Loutcs,  1864),  Ame- 
lung^  (1871,  1873,  1875),  Osthoff  {N-Dcclinatiun,  1870 ), 
Brugmann  {Nasalis  sonans,  187(5;  Gcschkhtc  dcr  stam- 
mabstufendcn  Declination,  1870),  Q,o\\\iz{U cbcr  die  An- 
nahmc  mchrerer  grundsprachlichcn  a-laiitc,  1878),  Job. 
Schmidt  (Zzvei  arischc  a-lautc,  1879).  which  led  up  step 
by  step  steadily  and  unerringly  to  the  definite  proof  that 
the  Indo-European  vocalisni  was  to  be  understood  in  terms 
of  the  Greek  rather  than  the  Sanskrit.  These  articles, 
written  in  the  period  of  intensest  creative  activity  the  science 
has  known,  represent  in  the  cases  of  four  of  the  scholars 
mentioned,  namely,  Curtius,  Amelung,  Brugmann,  CoUitz, 
the  masterpieces  of  the  scientific  life  of  each.  Though 
dealing  with  a  single  problem,  they  combined,  both  through 
the  results  they  achieved  and  the  method  and  outlook  they 
embodied,  to  give  character  and  directions  to  the  science 
of  the  next  quarter-century.  Karl  Verner's  famous  article, 
Bine  Ausnahme  der  erstcin  Lautverschiehung  (KZ.  xxiii, 
97  fif.,  July,  1875),  which  proved  of  great  importance, 
among  other  things,  in  establishing  a  connection  between 
Indo-European  ablaut  and  accent,  belongs  to  this  period; 
and  Brugmann's  article,  Nasalis  Sonans.  which  served 
more  than  any  other  work  to  clear  the  way  for  the  now 
prevailing  view  of  ablaut,  was  influenced  by  Verner's 
article,  which  was  by  a  few  months  its  predecessor.  Both 
articles,  it  is  worthy  of  noting,  were  distinctly  influenced 
by  the  new  phonetic ;  Verner's,  it  would  appear  chiefly  by 
Briicke,  Brugmann's,  through  a  suggestion  of  OsthofT's. 
by  Sievers,  whose  Lautphysiologie  had  just  appeared  within 
the  same  year.  The  full  efifect  upon  Western  science  of  the 
introduction  of  the  Indian  attitude  toward  language-study 


'A  Amelung  Die  Bildung  der  Tempusstamme  durch  yocalsteigerung  im 
Deutchen  Berlin  1S71.  Erwlderung.  KZ.  xxii,  361  ft.,  completed  July.  1873. 
?ubSd'l87l!  after  the  author's  death.  Der  Ursprung  dcr  deutsrhcn  a-vo- 
cole.  Haupt's   Zeitschr.    xviii,  161  ff.,  1875. 


256  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

appears  therefore  to  have  been  realized  only  with  the  last 
quarter  of  the  centur\'. 

More  prompt  than  the  response  of  European  science  to 
the  teachings  of  Hindoo  phonetics  and  phonology'  had  been 
the  acceptance  of  the  Hindoo  procedure  in  word-analysis, 
especially  with  relation  to  suffixes  and  inflectional  endings. 
The  centuries  of  study  of  Greek  and  Latin  had  yielded  no 
clue  to  any  classification  or  assorting  of  this  material  ac- 
cording to  meaning  or  function.  The  medieval  explana- 
tion of  dominicus  as  domini  custos  was  as  good  as  any. 
Besnier  in  his  essay.  La  science  des  Etymologies  (1694), 
counted  it  the  mark  of  a  sound  et\Tnologist  that  he  restrict 
his  attention  to  the  roots  of  words,  for  to  bother  with  the 
other  parts  would  be  '*  useless  and  ludicrous."  And  when 
Home  Tooke  in  the  Diversions  of  Purley,  ii,  429  (1786)- 
1805),  just  before  the  sunrise,  wrote  the  startling  words. 
"All  those  common  terminations  in  any  language  ,  .  .  are 
themselves  separate  words  with  distinct  meanings,"  and 
(ii,  454)  "Adjectives  with  such  terminations  (that  is,  -ly, 
-ous,  -fill,  -some,  -ish,  etc.)  are,  in  truth,  all  compound 
words" ;  and  when  he  flung  out  like  a  challenge  the  analysis 
of  Latin  iho,  "  I  shall  go."  as  three  letters  containing  three 
words,  namely.  /  "go"  b  {^=-!»'Ao,ia'.)  "will,"  a  (=ego) 
"  I,"  no  one  seems  to  have  been  near  enough  to  the  need 
of  such  instruction  to  know  whether  or  not  he  was  to  be 
taken  seriously :  for  the  words  bore  no  fruit,  and  only  years 
afterward  when  Bopp's  doctrine  had  been  recognized  were 
they  disinterred  as  antiquarian  curiosities.  Eleven  years 
later,  in  the  full  light  of  the  Sanskrit  grammar,  Bopp  pub- 
lished his  Conjugations-system,  and  the  clue  had  been 
found.  To  be  sure  Bopp  was  misguided  in  his  belief  that 
he  could  identify  each  element  of  a  word-ending  with  a 
significant  word,  and  assign  to  it  a  distinct  meaning,  but 
he  had   found  the  key  to  an  analysis  having  definite  his- 


PROGRESS  DURING  LAST  CENTURY      L'r.7 

torical  value  and  permitting  the  identification  of  such 
entities  as  mode-sign,  tense-sign,  personal  endings,  etc. 
The  erroneous  portion  of  his  doctrine  based  upon  his  con- 
ception of  the  Indo-European  as  an  agglutinative  type  of 
speech  dragged  itself  as  an  incumbrance  through  the  first 
half-century  of  the  science,  and,  though  gasping,  still  lived 
in  the  second  edition  of  Curtius's  Vcrbiim  (1877.)  This, 
along  with  many  other  mechanical  monstrosities  of  its 
kind,  was  gradually  banished  from  the  linguistic  arena  by 
the  saner  views  of  the  life-habits  of  language,  which  had 
their  rise  from  linguistic  psychology  as  a  study  of  the 
relations  of  language  to  the  hearing  as  well  as  speaking 
individual  and  the  relations  of  the  individual  to  the  speech 
community,  and  which  asserted  themselves  with  full  power 
in  the  seventies.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  return  to  this 
subject  later. 

Bopp  had  from  the  beginning  devoted  himself  to  lan- 
guage-study, not  as  an  end  in  itself,  but  as  we  know  from 
his  teacher  and  sponsor  Windischniann,'  as  well  as  infer 
from  the  direction  and  spirit  of  his  work,  he  hoped  to  be 
able  "  in  this  way  to  penetrate  into  the  mysteries  of  the 
human  mind  and  learn  something  of  its  nature  and  its 
laws."  He  was  therefore  unmistakably  of  the  school  of 
the  Greeks,  not  of  the  Hindoos;  for  the  Greek  grammar- 
ian in  facing  language  asks  the  question  "  why."  gram- 
mar being  to  him  philosophy,  whereas  the  Hindoo  asks 
the  question,  "  what,"  grammar  being  to  him  a  science 
after  the  manner  of  what  we  call  the  "  natural  sciences." 
There  is  indeed  but  slight  reason  for  the  common  practice 
of  dating  the  beginning  of  the  modern  science  of  language 
with  Bopp,  aside  from  the  one  simple  result  of  his  activity, 
which  must  in  strict  logic  be  treated  as  merely  incidental 
thereto,  namely,  that  he  gave  a  practical  illustration  of  the 

*  Introduction  to  Bopp's  Conjugationssystem  der  Sanskrit spr ache,  p.  4,  1818. 


258  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

possibility  of  applying  the  comparative  method  for  widen- 
ing the  scope  and  enriching  the  results  of  historical 
grammar. 

As   Bopp  had  tried  to  use  the  comparative  method  in 
determining  the  true  and  original  meanings  of  the  forma- 
tive elements,  so  did  his  later  contemporary,  August  Fried- 
rich   Pott'    (1802-87),  undertake  to  use  it  in  finding  out 
the  original  meaning  of  words.     The  search  for  the  etymol- 
ogy or  real  meaning  of  words   had  been  a   favorite   and 
mostly    bootless    exercise    of    all    European    grammarians 
from   the   Greek    philosophers    down,    having   its    original 
animus  and  more  or  less  confessedly  its  continuing  power 
in   the   broadly  human,    though   barely   on    occasion   half- 
formulated    conviction,    that    words    and    their    values   by 
some  mysterious  tie  naturally  belonged  to  each  other.     In 
the  instinct  to  begin  his  task  Pott  was  still  with  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  Greeks  and  the  Grasco-Europeans,  but  in  de- 
veloping it  he  was  guided  into  new  paths  by  two  forces 
that  had  arisen  since  the  century  opened.     Under  the  guid- 
ance of  the  comparative  method  whereby  the  vocabularies 
of   demonstrably  cognate   languages   now   assumed    a    de- 
terminate relation  to  each  other,  he  came  unavoidably  to 
the  recognition  of  certain  normal  corespondences  of  sounds 
between    -he   different   tongues.      On    the   other   hand,    in 
almost  entire  independence  hereof,  Jakob   Grimm   in   the 
pursuit  of  his  historical  method  had  formulated  the  regu- 
larities of  the  mutation  of  consonants  in  the  Teutonic  dia- 
lects, and  had  set  them  forth  in  a  second  edition  of  the 
first  volume  of  his  grammar,  appearing  in   1822.     In  all 
this  was  contained  a  strong  encouragement  as  well  as  warn- 
ing to  apply  these  new  definite  tests  to  every  etymological 
postulate,    and   therewith   arose,   under   Pott's   hands,    the 


1  A.  F.   Pott,  EtymologUche  Forschungen,  2  vols.   Lemgo,  1833-86  ;  2d  ed.   6 
TOl*.  1859-76. 


PROGRESS  DURING  LAST  Cl-.X'I'lkV      ;.•:.-.. 

beginnings  of  a  scientific  etymology.  It  was  a  first  pronii.sc 
of  deliverance  from  a  long  wilderness  of  caprice. 

The  positivistic  attitude  which  had  been  gradually  in- 
fused into  language-study  under  the  inihience  of  the  Hin- 
doo grammar  finally  reached  its  extremest  expression  in 
the  works  of  August  Schleicher  (1821-G8).  The  science 
of  language  he  treated  under  the  guise  of  a  natural  science. 
Language  appeared  as  isolated  from  the  speaking  indi- 
vidual or  the  speaking  community  to  an  extent  unparalleled 
in  any  of  his  predecessors  or  successors,  and  was  viewed  as 
an  organism  having  a  life  of  its  own  and  laws  of  growth 
or  decline  within  itself.  Following  the  analogies  of  the 
natural  sciences  and  trusting  to  the  inferred  laws  of 
growth,  he  ventured  to  reconstruct  from  the  scattered  data 
of  the  cognate  Indo-European  languages  the  visible  form 
of  the  mother  speech.  His  confidence  in  the  character  of 
language  as  a  natural  growth  made  him  the  first  great 
systematizer  and  organizer  of  the  materials  of  Indo-Eu- 
ropean comparative  grammar  {Compendium  dcr  vcrglcich- 
enden  Grammatik,  1861);  as  confidence  in  the  unerring 
uniformity  of  the  action  of  the  laws  of  sound  made  Karl 
Brugmann  the  second  (Gnindriss  der  vcrglcichcnden 
Grammatik,  1886-92). 

It  is  not  by  accident  that  the  first  one  to  voice  outright 
the  dogma  of  the  absoluteness  {Ausnahmslosigkcit)  of  the 
laws  of  sound  w^as  a  pupil  of  Schleicher,  August  Leskien 
{Die  Declination  in  Slavischlitauischcn  mid  Gcrnianischcn, 
XXVIII,  1876).  The  use  of  this  dogma  as  a  norm  and  test 
in  the  hands  of  a  signally  active  and  gifted  body  of  scholars 
who  followed  the  leadership  of  Leskien  and  were  known 
under  the  title  of  the  Leipziger  Schulc  or  the  Junggram- 
matiker,  and  the  adherence  to  it  in  practice  of  many  others 
w^ho  did  not  accept  the  theory  involved. — a  use  which  was 
undoubtedly    greatly    stimulated    by    Verner's    discovery 


260  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

(1875)  that  a  great  body  of  supposed  exceptions  to 
Grimm's  law  were  in  reality  obedient  to  law — gave  to  the 
science  in  the  two  following  decades  not  only  an  abundance 
of  results,  but  an  objectivity  of  attitude  and  procedure  and 
a  firmness  of  structure  that  may  fairly  be  said  to  represent 
the  consummation  of  that  positivist  tendency  which  we  have 
sought  to  identify  with  the  influence  of  Hindoo  grammar. 
This  movement,  however,  derived  its  impulse  by  no 
means  exclusively  through  Schleicher.  A  new  stream  had 
meanwhile  blended  its  waters  with  the  current.  The  psy- 
chology of  language  as  a  study  of  the  relations  of  language 
to  the  speaking  individual,  that  is,  of  the  conditions  under 
w^hich  language  is  received,  retained,  and  reproduced,  and 
of  the  relations  of  the  individual  to  his  speech  community, 
had  been  brought  into  play  preeminently  through  the  labors 
of  Heymann  Steinthal,^  who  though  as  a  psychologist,  a 
follower  of  Herbert,  must  be  felt  to  represent  in  general 
as  a  linguist  the  attitude  toward  language-study  first  estab- 
lished by  Wilhelm  v.  Humboldt.  William  D.  Whitney 
shows  in  his  writings  on  general  linguistics  the  influence 
of  Steinthal,  as  well  as  good  schooling  in  the  grammar  of 
the  Hindoos  and  much  good  common  sense.  His  lectures 
on  Language  and  the  Study  of  Language  (1867)  and  the 
Life  and  Growth  of  Language  (1875)  helped  chase  many 
a  goblin  from  the  sky.  Scherer's  Geschichte  der  deutschen 
Sprachc  (1868)  combined,  more  than  any  book  of  its  day, 
the  influences  of  new  lines  of  endeavor,  and  especially 
gave  hearing  to  the  new  work  in  the  psychology  as  well 
as  the  physiology  of  speech.  To  this  period  (1865-80), 
under  the  influence  of  the  combination  of  the  psychological 


1  H.  Steinthal,  Der  Urprung  der  Sprache,  im  Zusammenhang  mit  den  letzten 
Fragen  allcs  Wisscns,  1851  ;  Charakteristik  der  hauptsdchlichsten  Typen  dee 
Sprachbaues,  1860 ;  Einleitung  in  die  Psychologie  und  Sprachtoissenschatt, 
1881  ;  Gesch.  der  Sprachw.  bei  den  Griechen  und  Romern,  1863  ;  1890-91.  Also 
editor  with  Lazarus  of  the  Zeitschrift  fiir  Volkerpschologic  und  Sprachtoitsen- 
schaft,  from  1859. 


PROGRESS  DURING  LAST  CENTURY      -lil 

with  the  physiological  point  of  view,  belongs  the  establish- 
ment of  scientific  common  sense  in  the  treatment  of  lan- 
guage.    By  virtue  of  this,  as  it  were,  binocular  vision,  lan- 
guage was  thrown  up  into  relief,  isolated,  and  objectiviscd 
as  it  had  never  been  before.     Old  half-mystical   notions, 
such  as  the  belief  in  a  period  of  upbuilding  in  language  and 
a  period  of  decay,  all  savoring  of  Hegel,  and  the  conse- 
quent   fallacy    that    ancient    languages    display    a    keener 
speech-consciousness  than  the  modern,  speedily  faded  away. 
The  centre  of  interest  transferred  itself  from  ancient  and 
written  types  of  speech  to  the  modern  and  living.     Men 
came  to  see  that  vivisection  rather  than  morbid  anatomy 
must  supply  the  methods  and  spirit  of  linguistic  research. 
The  germs  of  a  new  idea  affecting  the  conditions  under 
which  cognate  languages  may  be  supposed  to  have  differ- 
entiated out  of  a  mother  speech,  and  conceived  in  terms 
of  the   observed   relations   of   dialects   to   language,    were 
infused    by  Johannes    Schmidt's    Verivandtschafts-vcrh'alt- 
nisse    der    indogcrman.      Sprachcn    (1S72).      The    rigid 
formulas  of  Schleicher's  Stammhaum  melted  away  before 
Schmidt's   Wellcntheoric  and  its  line  of  successors  down 
to  the  destructive  theories  of  Kretschmer's  Einlcitung  in 
die  Geschichtc  der  gricch.     Sprache   (1896).     Herein,  as 
in  many  another  movement  of  the  period,  we  trace  the 
results  of  applying  the  lessons  of  living  languages  to  the 
understanding  of  the  old.     A  remarkable  document  thor- 
oughly indicative  of  what  was  moving  in  the  spirit  of  the 
times   was  the   Introduction   to   Osthoff   and    Brugmann's 
Morphologischc  Untersiichnngen,  vol.  i   (1S78).     But  the 
gospel  of  the  period,  and  its  theology,  for  that  matter,  was 
most  effectively  set   forth   in    Hermann    Paul's   Principicn 
der  Sprachgeschichte  (1st  ed.  1S80),  a  work  that  has  had 
more    influence   upon    the    science    than    any    since   Jakob 
Grimm's   Deutsche   Grammatik.     Paul   was   the   real   sue- 


262  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

cesser  of  Steinthal.  He  also  represented  the  strictest  sect 
of  the  positivists  in  historical  grammar.  As  a  consequence 
of  the  union  in  Paul  of  the  two  tendencies,  his  work  ac- 
quires its  high  significance.  He  established  the  reaction 
from  Schleicher's  treatment  of  language-science  as  a 
natural  science;  he  showed  it  to  be  beyond  peradventure 
one  of  the  social  sciences,  and  set  forth  the  life  conditions 
of  language  as  a  socio-historical  product. 

The  work  of  the  period  dominated  by  Paul  and  the  neo- 
grammarians,  as  well  as  the  theories  of  method  proclaimed, 
show^s,  however,  that  the  two  factors  just  referred  to  had 
not  reached  in  the  scientific  thought  and  practice  of  the  day 
a  perfect  blending.  A  well-known  book  of  Osthoff's  bears 
the  title  Das  physiologische  und  psychologische  Moment 
in  dcr  sprachlichcn  Formcnhildung  (1879).  The  title  is 
symptomatic  of  the  times.  The  physiological  and  the 
psychological  w^ere  treated  as  two  ri\al  interests  vying 
for  the  control  of  language.  \Miat  did  not  conform  to 
the  phonetic  laws,  in  case  it  were  not  a  phenomenon  of 
mixture,  was  to  be  explained  if  possible  as  due  to  analogy. 
This  dualism  could  be  expected  to  be  but  a  temporary 
device,  like  the  setting  up  of  Satan  over  against  God,  in 
order  to  account  for  the  existence  of  sin.  A  temporary 
device  it  has  proved  itself  to  be.  The  close  of  the  first 
century  of  the  modern  science  of  language  is  tending 
toward  a  unitary  conception  of  the  various  forms  of  his- 
torical change  in  language.  The  process  by  which  the 
language  of  the  individual  adjusts  itself  to  the  community 
speech  differs  in  kind  no  w^hit  from  that  by  Avhich  dialect 
yields  to  the  standard  language  of  the  larger  community. 
The  process  by  which  the  products  of  form-association  or 
analogy  establish  themselves  in  language  ^  differs  no  whit 

'  Gustaf  E.  Karsten,  The  Psychological  Basin  of  Phonetic  Lav)  and  Analogy, 
Public.  Mod.  Lang.  Assoc,  ix.  312  ff.  (1894),  first  sought  a  unitary  psychologi- 
cal statement  for  the  two  impulses.  We  are  h^re,  however,  speaking  of  the 
establishment  of  the  results  of  the  impulses  in  linguistic  use. 


TROGRESS  DURING  LAST  CENTURY      263 

in  kind  from  that  by  which  new  pronunciations  of  words, 
that  is,  new  sounds,  make  their  way  to  general  acceptance. 
The  process  by  which  loan-elements  from  an  alien  tongue 
adjust  themselves  to  use  in  a  given  language  differs  psy- 
chologically and  fundamentally  no  whit  from  cither  of  the 
four  processes  mentioned.  In  fact,  tlicy  all,  all  five,  are 
phenomena  of  "mixture  in  language."^  The  process, 
furthermore,  by  which  a  sound-change  in  one  word  tends 
to  spread  from  word  to  word  and  displace  the  old  through- 
out the  entire  vocabulary  of  the  language  is  also  a  process 
of  "mixture,"'  and  depends  for  its  momentum  in  last 
analysis  upon  a  proportionate  analogy  after  the  same  es- 
sential model  as  that  by  which  an  added  sound  or  a  suffix 
is  carried  by  analogy  from  word  to  word.  All  the  move- 
ments of  historical  change  in  language  respond  to  the 
social  motive;  they  all  represent  in  some  form  the  absorp- 
tion of  the  individual  into  the  community  mass.  It  has 
therewith  become  evident  that  there  is  nothing  physio- 
logical in  language  that  is  not  psychologically  conditioned 
and  controlled.  So  then  it  appears  that  the  modern  science 
of  language  has  fairly  shaken  itself  free  again  from  the 
natural  sciences  and  from  such  influences  of  their  method 
and  analogies  as  were  intruded  upon  it  by  Schleicher 
and  his  period  (1860-80),  and  after  a  century  of  groping 
and  experiment  has  definitely  oriented  and  found  itself  as 
a  social  science  dealing  wath  an  institution  which  represents 


iSee  O  Bremer  Deutsche  Phonetik.  Vorwort  x  fT.  (1893):  B  I.  Wbeelor. 
Caiiet  ?fUn!ffr>nUyin  Phonetic  Change,  Transac.  Amer.  Phllol.  Assoc,  xx.u. 
1  ff.   (1901). 

3  A    point   of  view  involving  the   recognition    of   a   more   recondite   form   of 

s,eLzf.^Us  that  first  ^^^^y^^^,^^^,^^::^T^:^i!^';^ 

f^n^acticai  changes  in  language,  and  ultimately  the  differontintion  of  dlnlo-r. 
ind  even  of  languages  may  assume  relation  to  languages  of  the  BUbstraluu,  n. 
tZ^ypt^LelthatJis    prior  and  ^^ 

^t^h^er^ire/cnTmUl^^;"^  ff V  ^^^^^^^  "^'ec'h^s^ler.-O.r^r,^  'Z.!;. 
Hlrt   (Znrfo^    Forsr^ur^aen    TV  36  fl    1894     a  ^^^^^^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^.^ 

farsS't'o'deal.''we  arT'pereuadrd.  in  the  .econd  century  of  it.  exi.fnce. 


264:  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

more  intimately  and  exactly  than  any  other  the  total  life 
of  man  in  the  historical  determined  society  of  men. 

Within  the  history  of  the  science  of  language  the  begin- 
ning of  the  nineteenth  century  establishes  beyond  doubt  a 
most  important  frontier.  To  appreciate  how  sharp  is  the 
contrast  between  hither  and  yonder  we  have  only  to  turn 
of  Latin  from  Greek,  or  mayhap  to  be  most  utterly  scien- 
to  any  part  or  phase  of  the  work  yonder, — the  derivation 
tific,  from  the  ^olic  dialect  of  Greek,  the  sage  libration 
of  the  claims  of  Dutch  as  against  Hebrew  to  be  the  original 
language  of  mankind,  the  bondage  to  the  forms  of  Greek 
and  Latin  grammar,  as  well  as  to  the  traditional  point  of 
view  of  the  philosophical  grammar  of  the  Greeks,  the 
subordination  of  grammar  to  logic,  the  hopeless  etymol- 
ogies and  form  analyses  culminating  in  the  phantasies  of 
Hemsterhuis  and  Valckenaeer,  the  lack  of  any  guiding  clue 
for  the  explanation  of  how  sound  or  form  came  to  be 
what  it  is,  and  the  curse  of  arid  sterility  that  rested  upon 
every  effort.  All  the  ways  were  blind  and  all  the  toil  was 
vain.  On  the  hither  side,  however,  there  is  everywhere  a 
new  leaven  working  in  the  mass.  What  was  that  leaven? 
To  identify  if  possible  what  it  was  has  been  the  purpose 
of  this  review.  I  think  we  have  seen  it  was  not  the  in- 
fluence of  the  natural  sciences,  certainly  not  directly; 
wherever  that  influence  found  direct  application,  it  led 
astray.  It  was  not  in  itself  the  discovery ^of  the  compara- 
tive method,  for  that  proved  but  an  auxiliary  to  a  greater. 
If  a  founder  must  be  proclaimed  for  the  modern  science  of 
language,  that  founder  was  clearly  Jakob  Grimm,  not 
Franz  Bopp. 

The  leaven  in  question  was  comprised  of  two  elements. 
One  was  found  in  the  establishment  of  historical  grammar, 
for  this  furnished  the  long-needed  clue;  the  other  was 
found  in  the  discovery  of  Hindoo  grammar,   for  this  dis- 


PROGRESS  DURING  LAST  CENTURY      2(;r. 

closed  the  fruitful  attitude  for  linguistic  observation.  His- 
torical grammar  furnished  the  missing  clue,  because  it 
represented  the  form  of  language  as  created  what  it  is, 
not  by  the  thought  struggling  for  expression,  but  by  iiis- 
torical  conditions  antecedent  to  it.  Hindoo  grammar 
furnished  the  method  of  observation  because  by  its 
fundamental  instinct  it  asked  the  question  how  in  a  given 
language  does  one  say  a  given  thing,  rather  than  why  does 
a  given  form  embody  the  thought  it  does. 

The  germinal  forces  which  have  made  this  century  of 
the  science  of  language  are  not  without  their  parallels  in 
the  century  of  American  national  life  we  are  met  to  cele- 
brate to-day.  Jakob  Grimm  w'as  of  the  school  of  the 
Romanticists,  and  he  gained  his  conception  of  historical 
grammar  from  his  ardor  to  derive  the  institutions  of  his 
people  direct  from  their  sources  in  the  national  life.  The 
acquaintance  of  European  scholars  with  the  grammar  of 
India  arose  from  a  counter-spirit  in  the  world  of  the  day 
whereby  an  expansion  of  intercourse  and  rule  was  bringing 
to  the  wine-press  fruits  plucked  in  many  various  fields  of 
national  life.  Thus  did  the  spirit  of  national  particularism 
reconcile  itself,  in  the  experience  of  a  science,  with  the 
fruits  of  national  expansion.  After  like  sort  has  the  Ameri- 
can nation  in  its  development  for  the  century  following 
upon  the  typical  event  of  1803  combined  the  widening  of 
peaceful  interchange  and  common  standards  of  order  with 
strong  insistence  upon  the  right  of  separate  communities 
in  things  pertaining  separately  to  them  to  determine  their 
lives  out  of  the  sources  thereof.  Therein  has  the  nation 
given  fulfillment  to  the  prophetic  hope  of  its  great  demo- 
cratic imperialist  Thomas  Jefferson,^  "I  am  persuaded  no 
constitution  was  ever  before  so  well  calculated  as  ours  for 
extensive   empire   and   self-government." 

1  Letter  to  Mr.  Madison,  1809. 


266  HISTORY  OF  LANGUAGE 

The  linguistic  science  of  the  second  century  will  build 
upon  the  plateau  leveled  by  the  varied  toils  and  experiences 
of  the  first.  More  than  ever  those  who  are  to  read  the 
lessons  of  human  speech  will  gain  their  power  through 
intimate  sympathetic  acquaintance  wnth  the  historically  con- 
ceived material  of  the  individual  language.  But  though 
the  wide  rangings  of  the  comparative  method  have  for  the 
time  abated  somewhat  of  their  interest  and  their  yield,  it 
will  remain  that  he  who  would  have  largest  vision  must 
gain  perspective  by  frequent  resort  to  the  extra-mural 
lookouts.  Language  is  an  offprint  of  human  life,  and  to 
the  student  of  human  speech  nothing  linguistic  can  be  ever 
foreign. 


THE  TRANSFORMATION  OF  SANSKRIT  STUDIES 

IN  THE  COURSE  OF  THE  NINETEENTH 

CENTURY 

BY  SILVAIN  LEVI 
(Translated  from  the  French  hy  Mabel  Bode,  Ph.D.) 

[Sylvain,  Levi,  Professor  of  Sanskrit,  College  de  France;  Director 
of  Studies  at  tlie  High  School,  Paris,  since  1894.  b.  Paris,  1863. 
Litt.F.  1883;  Litt.D.  1890.  Master  of  Conferences  at  the  High 
School,  1885;  Assistant  Professor  in  Sanskrit  of  the  Faculty  of 
Letters,  Paris,  1889.  Member  of  Asiatic  Society,  Linguistic 
Society,  Society  of  Hebrew  Studies,  etc.  Ai'thor  and  Editor  ok 
The  Hindoo  Theatre;  Traces  of  the  Greeks  left  on  the  Monu- 
ments of  the  Ancient  Hindoos:  The  Doctrine  of  Sacrific  accord- 
ing to  the  Brahmanas;  The  Nepal.] 

Among  the  languages  of  the  Indo-Iranian  group  Sanskrit 
takes  indisputably  the  highest  place.  I  shall  not  make  any 
attempt  here  to  justify  this  honor  which  Sanskrit  owes  to 
the  length  of  its  existence,  the  wealth  of  its  vocabulary,  the 
vastness  of  its  literature,  and  to  its  role  in  history.  It 
would  be  an  easy  task,  and  one  flattering  to  the  heart  of  an 
Indianist,  to  take  each  of  these  points  in  turn  and  treat  each 
in  detail.  But  I  have  put  before  myself  another  aim,  more 
in  keeping  with  the  general  spirit  of  our  meeting;  I  wouUl 
like  to  show,  in  dealing  with  Sanskrit,  that  a  common  im- 
pulse animates  all  the  efforts  of  human  thought ;  the  more 
those  studies  which  I  represent  seem  far-away,  indifferent, 
foreign  alike  to  the  passions  and  the  interests  of  real  life,  the 
better  they  will  serve  to  support  the  thesis  I  advance,  if  it  be 
clearly  shown  that,  in  the  course  of  their  transformations, 
they  reflect  the  great  ideas  which  lead  humanity  toward 
its  unknown  goal. 

The  history  of  Sanskrit  studies  goes  hardly  a  century 
back;  they  came  into  being  with  the  Independence  of  the 
United  States  and  with  the  French  Revolution.     In  1785 

867 


268  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

Charles  \\'ilkins  published  in  London  a  translation  of  the 
Bhagavad  Gita,  prepared  in  India  with  the  assistance  of  na- 
tive scholars;  four  years  later  William  Jones  laid  before 
Western  leaders  a  translation  of  Cakuntala.  Before  these 
initiators,  of  glorious  renown,  Euroi^e  had  already  heard  of 
the  Sanskrit  language.  Europeans  settled  in  India  had 
studied  it,  mastered  it,  and  even  used  it,  but  their  knowledge 
had  borne  no  fruit.  They  were  missionaries  dedicated  to 
the  triumph  of  the  Church,  seeking  in  Sanskrit  an  instru- 
ment of  controversy  or  the  spread  of  doctrine.  Certainly 
patience,  energy,  learning,  and  dignity  of  life  were  theirs, 
but  they  lacked  the  active  sympathy  necessary  for  success, 
the  sympathy  which  animates  research  and  makes  it  fruitful. 
Moreover,  they  had  not  only  the  Brahmans  to  contend  with ; 
outside  India  they  were  closely  watched  by  adversaries  who 
forced  them  to  be  prudent  and  paralyzed  them.  Voltaire 
and  his  school  witnessed  with  triumph  and  joy  the  fall  of  the 
sacred  barriers  of  ancient  history  at  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century.  Bossuet  analyzed  the  secret  designs  of 
Providence  and  pointed  out  their  workings  without  going 
beyond  the  world  known  to  the  Fathers  of  the  Church ;  the 
Church  was  the  central  point  of  humanity.  And,  behold, 
other  peoples,  other  civilizations,  and  other  literatures,  un- 
known to  the  Scriptures,  had  come  to  light,  and  were  laying 
claim  to  such  antiquity  as  to  eclipse  the  ancient  Jewish 
tradition.  The  Brahmans  were  not  sparing  with  millions 
or  myriads  of  years  in  their  chronology.  The  Encyclo- 
paedia only  asked  to  believe  them ;  the  Church  only  thought 
how  to  contradict  them ;  there  was  no  one  capable  of  discuss- 
ing them. 

But  the  mind  of  humanity  was  ripening;  exact  criticism 
was  to  supplant  idle  controversy;  facts  were  about  to  take 
place  of  the  artifices  of  disputation.  England,  mistress  of 
India  by  the  fortune  of  arms,  opened  up  the  Hindu  genius  to 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  STUDIES        ?09 

the  world  and  the  world  to  the  Hindu  genius.     France, 
vanquished  on  the  field  of  battle,  at   least  competed  with 
honor  in  the  conquest  of  Asia's  past.     We  know  the  admir- 
able history  of  Anquetil  Duperron  who  went  out  as  a  volun- 
teer to  wring  from  the  distrustful  dasturs^  the  sacred  hooks 
of  Zoroaster,  which  he  eventually  brought  back  to  France. 
The  Bhagavad  Gita  of  Wilkins,  the  Cakuntala  of  Jones  ex- 
cited the  imagination  of  literary  Europe;  Goethe's  celebrated 
stanza   rings    in  every   one's  memory.     The  moment   was 
auspicious;  the  classical  tradition  was  worn  out,  since  the 
masterpieces  of  the  seventeenth  century;  reason,  proud  of 
her  victory  over  imagination,  too  long  a  hindrance  to  her 
progress,  had  nothing  to  offer  in  exchange  but  an  insipid 
sentimentahsm.     Men's  minds   impatiently   desired   violent 
emotions,  dazzling  pictures,  new  landscapes,  glaring  lights ; 
the  senses  demanded  satisfaction  in  their  turn.     The  Persian 
and  Arabian  poets  found  translators  and  imitators.     The 
Egyptian  campaign  made  the  East  popular.     Bonaparte  at 
the  Pyramids  conjured  up  a  past  of  forty  centuries  before 
his  wondering  soldiers.     But  Sanskrit,  only  lately  won  from 
the  Brahmans,  still  remained  the  privilege  of  the  English  of 
India ;  Europe  possessed  neither  books,  grammars,  nor  dic- 
tionaries.    However,  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale  at  Paris 
possessed   a  collection  of   Sanskrit  manuscripts   and   some 
clumsy  rudiments  of  grammar  due  to  the  missionaries.    Fas- 
cinated, like  so  many  others,  by  reading  Cakuntala,  Chezy 
determined  to  go  back,  at  any  cost,  to  the  original.     A 
worthy  rival  of  the  first  humanists  of  the  Renaissance,  he 
set   to   work   alone   to   acquire  a   knowledge   of   Sanskrit. 
Chezy  was  the  son  of  a  distinguished  engineer,  and  destined 
originally  for  his  father's  profession.     It  was  not  long  be- 
fore he  deserted  the  too  stern  science  of  mathematics  for  the 

iThe  learned   among  the  Parsi  priests:    literally,  the  chief  of  a  Temple  of 
Fire. 


270  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

kindly  companionship  of  the  Eastern  muses.  In  him  an 
extreme  sensibihty  was  united  with  firmness  and  method ;  a 
fortunate  facility  made  the  study  of  languages  mere  sport 
to  him.  He  became  the  pupil  of  Sacy  and  Langles,  and  was 
a  master  of  his  subject  at  twenty  years  of  age.  He  had  been 
appointed  to  take  part  in  the  labors  of  the  Egyptian  mission, 
but  was  stopped  at  Toulon  by  illness.  He  returned  to  Paris 
to  seek  consolation  in  the  Library  among  the  Oriental  manu- 
scripts. The  story  of  his  gropings  and  success  has  the 
poignant  interest  of  a  drama  in  which  science  is  at  stake : 
it  was  not  even  without  a  tragic  catastrophe  by  which  he  lost 
the  sweet  and  precious  peace  of  home  life.  He  was  forced 
to  sacrifice  his  conjugal  happiness  to  the  jealous  demands  of 
research,  but  his  obstinate  enthusiasm  did  not  falter ;  twenty- 
five  years  later,  arrived  at  the  goal  of  his  efforts,  but  over- 
whelmed with  sorrows  and  filled  with  bitterness,  he  crowned 
the  six  hundred  and  fifty  pages  of  the  quarto  volume,  in 
which  he  had  at  last  published  the  text  of  Qakuntala,  with 
this  verse  of  Walter  Scott,  where  he  breathes  out  his  very 
soul: 

"That  I  o'erlive  such  woes.  Enchantress,  is  thine  own!" 

I  have  not  been  able  to  resist  giving  in  detail  the  first  steps 
of  this  heroic  pioneer,  to  whom  I  may  be  allowed  to  offer 
homage  here,  as  a  Frenchman,  as  a  forenmner,  and  my  own 
predecessor.  It  is  Chezy's  chair  which  I  now  occupy  at  the 
College  de  France.  "On  the  29th  of  November  in  the  year 
of  grace  1814  and  the  twentieth  of  the  reign,"  an  ordinance 
of  Louis  XVIII,  signed  "at  his  royal  chateau  of  the 
Tuileries,"  created  at  the  same  time  two  new  chairs  in  the 
College  de  France ;  one,  to  which  Antoine  Leonard  de  Chezy 
was  appointed,  was  for  the  teaching  of  the  Sanskrit  lan- 
guage and  literature;  the  other,  for  the  Chinese  language 
and  literature,  was  first  occupied  by  Abel  Remusat.     Sil- 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  S'PlDll'S        271 

vesire  de  Sacy,  the  recognized  head  of  iMcncli  CJrientalism. 
pompously  thanked  "Loiiis-le-Desire,"  "through  whom  let- 
ters flourished  under  the  aegis  of  peace,  in  the  shade  of 
Minerva's  olive-tree."  A  less  fervent  royalist  might  have 
enjoyed  recording  that  the  ancient  regime  was  no  sooner 
restored  but  it  found  itself  compelled  to  give  its  counte- 
nance, at  the  outset,  to  the  conquests  of  the  modern  spirit  in 
that  very  asylum  which  Francis  I  had  thrown  open  to  in- 
dependent research,  opposite  the  University  devoted  to  tra- 
dition. In  1530  Greek  and  Hebrew  were  sanctioned  by 
the  royal  will;  it  was  the  overthrow  of  the  principle  of  au- 
thority represented  by  the  Latin  of  scholasticism.  In  IS  14 
Sanskrit  and  Chinese,  admitted  on  equal  terms  with  classical 
studies,  foretold  a  wider  humanity. 

Chezy  had  not  foreseen  the  far-reaching  results  of  his 
work,  any  more  than  Sacy  or  Louis  XVIII.  He  was  an 
Orientalist  steeped  in  classic  rhetoric,  and  he  sacrificed  to 
elderly  Muses  and  superannuated  Graces.  His  opening  lec- 
ture seems  addressed  to  the  retired  magistrates  who  trans- 
lated Horace  into  French  verse.  "Do  not  believe,  gentle- 
men, that  this  literature  has  treasures  only  for  science  and 
stern  reason.  No;  lively  imagination  also  has  a  large  part, 
and  among  no  people  in  the  world  has  brilliant  poesy  dis- 
played itself  in  more  magnificent  outward  garb,  or  been 
accompanied  by  a  retmue  more  lovely  and  more  captivating. 
From  the  haughty  Epic  to  the  timid  Idyll  the  most  varied 
productions  of  taste  w^ill  present  themselves  in  crowds  to 
your  enchanted  gaze  and  arouse  in  you  by  turns  every  kind 
of  emotion  of  which  the  soul  is  susceptible."  And  to  prove 
"the  fecundity  of  the  Indian  Muses"  he  enumerated  all 
these  kinds  "treated  with  equal  success  by  the  Bards  of  the 

Ganges." 

But  more  vigorous  minds  were  already  preparing  to  re- 
sume the  work  and  render  it  fruitful.     It  was  the  period  m 


272  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

which  the  author  of  Indian  Wisdom,  Schlegal,  summed  up 
the  programme  of  Sanskritists  in  three  stages,  Paris,  Lon- 
don, India.  Since  1812  Bopp  had  settled  in  Paris,  and, 
without  allowing  the  din  of  near  battles  to  distract  him, 
patiently  collected  the  materials  which  his  genius  was  to 
bring  into  order.  Others  before  him,  since  the  sixteenth 
century,  had  observed  the  evident  relationship  of  the  Sans- 
krit vocabulary  with  the  classical  languages.  No  European 
could  hear  the  Sai.shrit  names  of  relationship,  pitar,  mdtar, 
bhrdtar,  the  names  of  numbers,  dvi,  tri,  etc.,  the  verb  "to  be" 
(French  etre,  Sanskrit,  asti),  but  there  awoke  in  him  a  far- 
off  echo  of  his  mother  tongue  or  of  ancient  languages. 

Comparison,  discussion,  and  speculation  had  gone  on 
without  rule  or  measure;  Bopp  created  the  science  of  com- 
parative grammar,  classed  facts,  and  recognized  laws. 
Under  the  varieties  of  language  prevailing  in  Europe,  Iran, 
and  India  he  pointed  out  a  common  stock  and  succeeded  in 
explaining  most  of  the  deviations  from  it,  going  back  by 
way  of  induction  to  the  primitive  type.  Then  appeared 
a  word  which  soon  became  current,  a  compound  no  less 
unexpected  than  expressive,  a  symbol  which  summed  up  the 
revolution  that  had  been  accomplished.  India  and  Europe, 
which  everything  seemed  to  separate  till  that  time,  came 
together  and  were  henceforth  fused  into  one  in  the  accepted 
expression  "Indo-European."  The  Brahmans,  so  long 
mysterious,  the  obscure  peasants  of  Bengal,  the  Punjab, 
Gujerat,  had  received  their  heritage  from  the  same  linguistic 
fund  as  a  Homer  or  a  Virgil ;  the  groups  which  had  been 
unknown,  despised,  hated, — the  German,  Slav,  and  Neo- 
Latin, — grouped  themselves  into  a  new  family  of  languages. 
Soon  new  discoveries  filled  the  gaps  and  attached  to  the 
chain  those  links  which  were  missing.  The  deciphering  of 
cuneiform  inscriptions  brought  to  light  the  Persian  of  the 
Achaemenidae ;  Zoroaster  spoke  in  the  Avesta,  which  was 


I 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  STUDIES        27:i 

even  explained  in  the  original,  and  these  ancient  documents 
of  Iran  connected  the  shores  of  the  Indus  with  the  valleys 
of  the  Caucasus.  Never  had  a  Plato,  a  Descartes,  a  L«.'il)- 
nitz,  in  their  vastest  dreams  conceived  so  large  a  family 
within  the  human  species.  The  learned  were  dazzled ;  even 
their  heads  were  turned,  this  time.  Then  arose  a  strange 
and  at  first  puerile  sentiment,  which  proved  disastrous  later, 
when  it  spread  to  the  common  people;  comparative  grammar 
gave  birth  to  Indo-European  chauvinism.  The  Revolution, 
borne  to  the  far  ends  of  Europe  by  Napoleon's  wars,  had 
awakened  the  national  conscience  in  one  people  after  an- 
other. Allies  or  adversaries  of  France,  those  who  had  been 
subjects  the  day  before,  awoke  suddenly  to  find  themselves 
citizens;  divine  right  was  forgotten;  the  state  ceased  to 
be  incarnated  in  the  monarch,  and  was  incorporated  in  the 
entire  nation.  Neither  certain  of  their  doctrines,  nor  of 
their  own  inmost  essence,  but  upheld  nevertheless  by  the  will 
to  live,  the  nations  grouped  themselves  with  restless  fervor 
around  their  languages,  their  institutions,  their  traditions, 
which  constituted  their  collective  titles  of  nobility.  The 
national  spirit  was  formed,  as  in  the  cities  of  ancient  times, 
in  the  struggle  with  barbarians.  When  scholars  afterwards 
proceeded  to  call  attention  to  the  linguistic  relationships 
which  antiquity,  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  Renaissance  had 
neglected  or  disdained,  national  pride  was  willing  to  lay 
claim  to  the  kindred  groups.  Led  away  by  the  bewildering 
charm  of  a  grand  discovery,  savants,  and  after  them  the 
public,  took  kinship  of  language  to  be  a  sure  indication  of 
common  origin.  The  peoples  scattered  over  the  immense 
area  of  Indo-European  languages  saw  themselves,  in  spite 
of  the  natural  sciences,  and  on  the  evidence  of  their  lan- 
guage, grouped  into  one  single  race  which  received  the  name 
of  Indo-European  or  Aryan  race.  The  civilized  world 
which  was  still  within  the  limits  drawn  by  the  prejudices 


S74  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

current  in  Europe  and  the  nearer  half  of  Asia,  appeared 
thenceforward  as  the  patrimony  and  the  battle-field  of  two 
races  eternally  hostile,  the  Aryan  and  the  Semitic  races, 
both  pushing  forward  to  conquer  the  earth. 

The  fierce  struggle  between  the  Encyclopedia  and  the 
Church  was  bearing  fruit.  In  his  eagerness  to  bring  con- 
tempt on  the  Bible  Voltaire  had  already  been  imprudent 
enough  to  accept  as  genuine  testimony  from  ancient  India 
a  pretended  Veda,  the  B^oiir  Vcdain,  which  a  nobleman  had 
brought  from  India  and  presented  to  him  as  a  book  "trans- 
lated from  the  Sanscretan  by  the  high-priest  or  arch-brah- 
man of  the  pagoda  of  Chiringham,  an  aged  man  respected 
for  his  incorruptible  virtue."  In  reality  the  original  "Sans- 
cretan" had  never  existed,  and  the  arch-brahman  was  a 
Jesuit  missionary.  The  author  of  the  clever  imitation  had 
hoped  to  lead  the  Hindus  to  the  Christian  religion  by  this 
pious  fraud;  if  he  did  not  succeed  in  that,  he  at  least  suc- 
ceeding in  duping  Voltaire,  and  might  rest  satisfied.  But 
now  the  Sanskrit  language,  studied  and  taught  in  Europe, 
gave  access  to  the  real  Veda.  The  Brahmans  persisted  as 
long  as  they  could  in  defending  this  coveted  treasure  from 
the  enterprise  of  profane  men  of  science;  their  delays  and 
refusals  only  served  to  pique  curiosity  and  inflame  imagina- 
tion all  the  more.  According  to  them  the  Veda  had  no 
date,  it  went  back  beyond  all  time,  back  to  a  past  impossible 
to  calculate.  They  easily  imposed  their  conviction  on  the 
earliest  interpreters.  At  last  the  Aryan  race  had  its  Bible; 
an  Aryan  Bible.  But  the  Veda  was  not  accommodating; 
written  in  an  archaic  tongue  which  differed  from  classical 
Sanskrit  even  more  than  Homer  from  Plato,  bestrewn  with 
puzzling  forms  and  disused  words,  it  seemed  to  defy  the 
sagacity  of  philologists.  The  only  help  afforded  by  India 
was  a  commentary  too  late  to  be  authoritative.  On  these 
ancient  texts  was  expended  a  wealth  of  science,  of  shrewd- 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  STUDIES        J.>75 

ness,  of  patience,  and  almost  of  genius.  But  a  fciregone  con- 
clusion, an  unconscious  parti  pris,  directed  and  inliuenccd 
these  efforts.  There  was  a  desire  to  gi\c  the  Aryans  uf 
Europe  worthy  ancestors.  The  German  scholars  wIkj 
occupied  the  first  rank  in  philology  had  naturally  suhstituted 
for  the  title  Aryan  or  Indo-European  a  wonl  which  Hattcreil 
national  amour  propre;  they  spoke  of  the  Imlo-Germanic 
language,  of  the  Indo-Germanic  race.  Thenceforward  the 
Vedas  were  the  complement  of  the  Nichelungen.  The 
origins  of  religion  took  their  place  heside  the  origins  of  the 
epic.  It  was  pleasant  to  picture  the  singers  of  the  ancient 
hymns  as  grave  and  nohle  patriarchs,  thoughtful,  devout, 
austere,  patriarchs  formed  on  the  romantic  model;  their 
candid  soul,  filled  with  enthusiasm  for  the  grand  spectacles 
of  nature,  poured  itself  forth  in  lyric  effusions.  Lost  in 
the  radiance  of  the  Veda,  Indianism  forfeited  its  independ- 
ence and  placed  itself  like  a  faithful  Achates  at  the  side  of 
comparative  grammar.  The  infatuation  of  the  first  days 
had  died  out  some  time  before.  The  public,  satiated  with 
the  East  by  the  Romantic  School,  found  no  further  charm 
in  it;  the  successors  of  W'ilkins  and  Jones  ])ursned  their 
laborious  task  without  exciting  attention.  But  Sanskrit  still 
remained,  by  well-established  right,  the  corner-stone  of 
linguistic  studies ;  perpetuated  without  alteration  for  tens  of 
centuries,  it  surpassed  in  purity  all  the  languages  of  the 
family.  Moreover,  the  Hindu  grammarians  had  been  the 
real  creators  of  comparative  grammar;  it  was  in  their  school 
that  Bopp  and  his  successors  had  learned  the  art  of  rigorous 
analysis  of  words,  the  art  of  classing  their  elements,  ex- 
plaining their  formation,  and  tracing  their  derivation 
through  the  vocabulary.  The  Hindus,  who  have  but  little 
taste  for  observation  of  external  phenomena,  who  are  but 
mediocre  pupils  of  their  neighbors  in  the  domain  of  the 
natural  sciences,  have  given  the  closest  study  to  the  data  of 


276  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

the  inner  life;  their  psychology  has  penetrated  to  the  un- 
conscious and  prepared  the  way  for  modern  investigation; 
their  grammar,  several  centuries  before  the  Christian  era, 
established  the  study  of  sounds  with  almost  faultless  pre- 
cision. The  glorious  name  of  Panini.  even  to  the  present 
day,  hovers  over  Indo-European  linguistic  science. 

Although  sheltered  under  the  ?egis  of  comparative  gram- 
mar, the  study  of  the  Veda  was  nevertheless  tending  toward 
a  revolution.  Linked  together  from  this  time  forth,  the 
Semitic  Bible  and  the  Aryan  Bible  were  doomed  to  the  same 
fate  Criticism,  gradually  emancipated  from  the  tradition 
of  ag-es,  had  first  tried  its  hand  on  Homer,  and  in  spite  of 
the  anxious  protests  of  defenders  of  the  past,  it  had  dared  to 
direct  a  front  attack  against  accumulated  prejudices.  Em- 
boldened by  success,  it  seized  on  the  Scriptures,  braved  the 
scandal,  and  subjected  them  to  severe  examination. 

There  was  no  choice  but  to  submit  and  recognize  in  the 
sacred  books  a  late  compilation,  sacredotal  in  its  origin  and 
inspiration.  The  shock  of  the  attack  reached  the  Veda. 
May  a  disciple  of  Abel  Bergaigne  be  allowed,  upon  this 
high  occasion,  to  recall  the  name  of  the  master  loved  with 
a  filial  affection  and  everlastingly  regretted,  who  was  the 
author  of  this  revolution?  The  liturg}-,  when  more  thor- 
oughly studied  and  better  known,  threw^  a  pitiless  light  on 
the  ancient  hymns;  those  songs  in  which,  as  was  at  first 
believed,  we  could  almost  hear  the  whimper  of  humanity 
in  its  cradle,  betrayed  a  soulless  religion  reduced  to  mere 
forms,  a  subtilized  religion  w'hich  confounded  the  priest  with 
the  magician,  a  priestly  poetry  which  subsisted  on  old 
patches  and  worked  to  order.  The  trench  which  had  been 
ingeniously  dug  between  the  Veda  and  Sanskrit  literature 
narrowed  and  tended  gradually  to  be  filled  up.  The  Veda 
once  Aryan  became  Hindu.  Indianism  lost  its  connection 
with  Indo-Germanic  studies;  it  retired  within  itself,  form- 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  STLlJllCS        -:: 

iiig  a  mighty,  organic  unity.  The  Veda  lost  nothing  hy  ilii>  ; 
it  continued,  by  reason  of  its  age  and  intluencc,  to  dominate 
the  development  of  India.     Thus  transformed,  the  study  of 
the  Veda   renewed   its  youth  and  entered  on   a   new  cia. 
Among  the  four  great  collections  (Samliita)  which  arc  ihc 
foundation  of  Vedic  literature,  the  Rig-Veda  collection  had 
long  kept  possession  of  the  favor  and  attention  of  scholars ; 
it  was  the  Veda  par  excellence.     This  collection,  methodic- 
ally arranged,  presented  to  the  view  of  those  prepossessed  in 
its   favor  an  ensemble  as  noble  and  correct  as  could  be 
wished;  it  was  possible  to  extract  passages  of  lofty  reach, 
picturesque  or  pathetic  or  grandiose  pieces  such  as  the  Aryan 
Bible  demanded.     Two  other  collections,  the  Sama  and  the 
Yajur-Veda,  betrayed  their  liturgic  origin  too  crudely  to 
take  rank  with  the  Rig-Veda.     The  fourth  collection,  the 
Atharva-Veda,   had  nothing  edifying  about  it;  the  Brah- 
mans  themselves  had  recognized  this  more  than  once.     It 
was  a  strange  combination  of  charms,  spells,  speculations, 
and  domestic  ritual,  in  which  medicine,  sorcery,  debauchery, 
poltical  intrigue,  and  daily  life,  with  its  trifling  incidents, 
jostled  each  other.     It  was  embarrassing  for  the  ideal  of 
Aryan  nobility;  it  was  kept  at  a  distance,  or  at  least  in  the 
background,   like   a   suspected   i>ersonage,    like   a   bastard. 
However,  the  world  was  changing;   literary  nobility  and 
nobility  of  birth  were  sinking  together ;  la  grandc  populace 
et  la  sainte  canaille  were  claiming  their  turn.     History  no 
longer  confined  herself  to  a  list  of  exploits  connected  with 
illustrious  natnes.     Watching  the  stir  in  the  street,  she  had 
guessed  at  the  obscure  supernuineraries  taking  their  part  ni 
the  human  drama;  she  strove  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  them 
in  the  shadows  of  the  past.     Folk-lore  came  into  existence, 
and  the  Atharva  supplanted  the  Rig- Veda,  fallen  into  dis- 
credit.    Triumphant  democracy  made  its  victory  apparent 
in  Vedic  studies. 


278  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

If  limited  to  the  study  of  the  Yedas  and  the  orthodox 
classics,  Sanskrit  philology  was  in  no  danger  of  exhausting 
its  material  too  quickly ;  the  enormous  mass  of  works  accu- 
mulated in  the  course  of  twenty  centuries  by  unwearying 
generations  of  writers  gave  promise  of  a  long  time  to  be 
spent  in  exploiting  them.  A  great  number  of  these  works 
found  favor  with  literary  men  by  the  beauty  of  their  form, 
with  thinkers  by  the  loftiness  of  their  ideas  or  the  boldness 
of  their  speculations.  But  history,  for  which  so  much  had 
been  expected  from  the  discovery  and  study  of  these  w^orks, 
was  destined  to  be  disappointed.  Blinded  by  puerile  vanity, 
the  Brahmans  had  detached  Indian  from  the  world;  they 
had  been  wonderfully  seconded  by  nature,  which  seemed  to 
have  isolated  the  peninsula  amid  the  walls  of  the  Himalayas, 
the  formidable  deserts  of  the  Indus,  and  the  yet  more  for- 
midable expanse  of  the  sea.  They  delighted  in  represent- 
ing "Hindu  wisdom"  as  a  fruit  sprung  spontaneously  from 
the  soil,  a  miraculous  production  due  to  their  power  alone. 
Their  fascinating  spell,  which  still  sways  so  many  candid 
minds,  had  already  had  its  effect  upon  the  ancients.  Did 
not  Pythagoras,  among  others,  pass  for  a  disciple  of  the 
Brahmans?  With  a  consistency  so  strict  that  it  seems  to 
imply  a  conscious  determination,  they  had  put  away  in- 
convenient memories,  and  if,  by  chance,  tradition  forced  a 
real  name  upon  them,  they  shrouded  it  in  the  mists  of  a 
false  antiquity.  If  we  had  to  trust  to  their  fantastic  chro- 
nology, a  glorious  contemporary  of  Alexander,  Candragupta 
the  Maurya  (the  Sandrakoptos  of  the  Greeks),  would  be 
placed  seventeen  centuries  before  the  Christian  Era !  Of 
Alexander  himself  and  his  expedition  they  naturally  re- 
membered nothing.  Up  to  the  time  of  the  Mussulman  in- 
vasion, too  positive  and  too  near  to  be  by  any  possibility 
denied,  they  pictured  India  happy  and  blissful,  enjoying 
the  willing  or  compelled  respect  of  all  the  barbarians  of  the 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  STUDIES        270 

earth.  The  positive  and  exact  testimony  of  the  Greeks  and 
Latins  exposed  the  fraud  of  the  Brahmans;  Hellenism,  it 
was  well  known,  has  penetrated  victoriously  into  the  "Holv 
Land."  But  it  was  not  enough  to  bring  to  light  the  in- 
terested falsehoods  of  the  priestly  caste;  science  undertook 
the  colossal  task  of  restoring  to  India  her  lost  history.  Scat- 
tered over  the  vast  expanse  of  the  country,  steles,  pillars, 
and  rocks  could  still  be  met  with,  on  which  were  traced  in- 
scriptions in  enigmatic  characters,  mute  witnesses  of  van- 
ished epochs.  The  patience  of  investigators — a  patience  of 
genius — succeeded  in  breaking  through  their  long  silence. 
After  a  century  of  work  the  political  history  of  the  Hindu 
world  begins  to  appear  to  us ;  still  broken  up  by  enormous 
gap-s,  confused,  uncertain,  calling  for  cautious  judgment. 
It  is  still  easy  to  mention  dynasties  which  waver,  according 
to  Ihe  differing  hypotheses,  within  a  space  of  three  cen- 
turies, the  length  of  time  which  separates  Alexander  from 
Augustus,  the  discovery  of  America  from  the  Independence 
of  the  United  States.  But,  taken  as  a  whole,  the  picture  is 
already  clear.  Political  India  shows  a  resemblance  to  re- 
ligious India  in  a  continual  production  of  small  groups 
which  combine  together,  now  and  again,  to  form  a  system, 
and  fall  apart  almost  immediately.  And  this  history,  which 
was  believed  to  be  as  old  as  the  world,  does  not  begin  be- 
fore the  morrow  of  the  Macedonian  invasion!  W^e  have 
not  a  single  line  of  an  inscription  which  we  have  the  right 
to  date  earlier  than  this.  The  epigraphy  of  India  begins 
with  the  admirable  sermons  which  a  Buddhist  emperor. 
Aqoka,  caused  to  be  engraved  in  every  corner  of  his  vast 
dominions  toward  the  year  250  before  the  Christian  Era. 
A  happy  chance,  perhaps  some  deep  excavations,  may  open 
out  to  epigraphy  a  more  distant  horizon ;  but  at  the  present 
time  our  positive  documents  do  not  go  beyond  the  date  men- 
tioned.    Sanskrit  epigraphy  begins  still  later.     It  api^ars 


280  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

in  tentative  fashion  at  about  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
Era,  but  does  not  begin  to  flourish  till  the  middle  of  the 
second  century.  Before  this  period  the  authors  of  the  in- 
scriptions used  only  dialects,  related,  no  doubt,  to  Sanskrit, 
but  greatly  disfigured  and  altered.  I  am  far  from  conclud- 
ing that  the  Sanskrit  language  was  not  formed  till  this  late 
epoch ;  but  it  must  be  admitted  on  this  testimony  that  Sans- 
krit was  not  one  of  the  vulgar  tongues  of  India  three  cen- 
turies before  the  birth  of  Christ.  The  grammarians  who 
had  lovingly  fashioned  it  had  detached  it  from  real  life 
when  they  gave  it  fixed  forms.  Doubtless  the  divorce  only 
became  apparent  by  degrees ;  the  difference  between  the 
spoken  language  and  the  written  Sanskrit  at  first  only 
seemed  to  lie  in  slight  shades  of  correctness  or  purity; 
when  the  distance  widened,  the  priestly  caste  remained  faith- 
fully attached  to  the  privileged  language  that  separated  it 
from  the  illiterate  masses ;  it  consecrated  its  own  language 
to  religion  and  imposed  it  on  the  orthodox  literature. 
Imagine  the  Latin  of  Cicero  rescued  by  the  Christian 
Church,  and,  under  her  patronage,  accepted  as  the  language 
of  literature  by  all  the  peoples  of  Europe,  irrespective  of 
spoken  tongues,  and  you  will  understand  the  role  of  the 
Sanskrit  language  and  literature  in  India. 

The  Brahmans  had  intended  to  keep  the  monopoly  of 
Sanskrit ;  they  flattered  themselves  that  they  shared  it  with 
the  gods  alone.  But  two  rebellious  churches  rose  up 
against  Braham  pretensions  and  marked  the  hour  of  their 
triumph  by  the  conquest  of  Sanskrit.  Cultivated  by  the 
Buddhists  and  Jains,  the  mass,  already  huge,  of  Sanskrit 
literature  spread  and  multiplied  in  spite  of  the  Brahmans. 
But  Jainism,  after  a  short  time  of  prosperity,  sank  into  a 
long  torpor  and  was  forgotten.  Buddhism,  receiving  a 
mortal  blow  by  the  invasion  of  Islam,  which  burnt  the 
convents  end  massacred  or  dispersed  the  communities,  dis- 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  STUDll-S 


:.'M 


appeared  from  Hindu  soil.  The  Brahman  had  his  re- 
venge; he  wreaked  his  jealous  hatred  on  Die  remains  of  the 
rival  who  had  disputed  empire  with  him;  he  thought  t.. 
efface  the  last  traces  of  Buddhism,  and  preserved  the  mere 
name  only  to  execrate  it.  But  again  Western  science- 
baffled  his  calculations. 

In  1816,  by  the  force  of  British  arms,  a  British  resident, 
assisted  by  two  subordinates,  was  established  at  Nepal 
among  the  refractory  Gurkhas.  Ten  years  later  Hodgson 
with  toilsome  perseverance  extracted  the  still  immense  ruins 
of  Buddhist  Sanskrit  literature  from  the  libraries  of  Nepal. 
At  about  the  same  time  Ceylon,  Burma,  and  Siam,  which 
had  remained  faithful  to  the  Law  of  the  Buddha,  yielded 
up  to  investigators  a  still  more  considerable  collection  of 
works  both  religious  and  profane,  written  in  Pali,  an 
ancient  dialect,  near  to  Sanskrit,  and  sprung  from  the  same 
soil,  but  independent. 

Sanskrit  texts  and  Pali  texts,  coming  from  opposite 
points  of  the  Indian  horizon,  brought  with  them,  each  one. 
a  body  of  tradition  and  legend  on  the  life  of  the  Buddha 
and  the  destinies  of  the  church.  By  means  of  strictly 
critical  comparison  it  was  possible  to  extract  their  part 
of  history  from  these  stories.  Burnouf,  the  successor  of 
Chezy  at  the  College  de  France,  undertook  this  heavy  task, 
undaunted  by  the  multitude  of  manuscripts  and  the  variety 
of  languages;  by  dint  of  sagacity,  penetration,  justice,  and 
reason  he  accomplished  at  the  outset  a  definite  work.  His 
Introduction  to  the  History  of  Indian  Bnddhisni  remains 
at  the  end  of  half  a  century  of  new  discoveries  and  re- 
searches an  authority  still  safe  and  still  consulted. 

With  Buddhism  Sanskrit  finally  overstepped  the  fron- 
tiers of  India.  The  bold  enterprise  of  Csoma  de  Koros. 
who  had  shut  himself  up  for  several  years  in  a  convent  of 
Ladakh,  had  brought  to  light  an  immense  Tibetan  library. 


282  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

translated,  to  a  great  extent,  from  Sanskrit  originals,  some 
of    which   were    preserved    in    Nepal,   others    lost.     China 
and  Japan,  thrown  open  by  degrees  to  Western  research, 
yielded  up  in  their  turn  similar  collections  translated  from 
Sanskrit   originals.     The  history  and  literature  of   China 
added  theu-  testimony  to  the  power  of  the  movement  which, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  Era  onwards,  carried 
Indian  Buddhism  in  triumphant  marches  as  far  as  the  palace 
of  the  Son  of  Heaven  and  even  to  the  islands  of  the  sea, 
fructifying  thought,  elevating  the  souls  of  men,  awakening 
or  transforming  art.     The  memoirs  of  a  Fa-hien,  a  Hiuen- 
tsang,  and  I-tsing  described  the  pilgrims  fascinated  by  the 
"Holy  Land,"    impatient   to    adore   the   footprints   of   the 
Buddha,  braving  the  sterile  sands  and  treacherous  whirl- 
winds, the  brigands,  the  mountains,  and  the  storms  of  the 
ocean  in  order  to  study  the  sacred  Sanskrit  language  and 
bring  back  to  their  own  country  a  reliable  translation,  with 
the  authentic   words  of  the  master  or  his  disciples.      So 
strong  a   movement  of  expansion   must  necessarily   leave 
positive  traces;   the   expansion   of   Europe   at  the  present 
day,  following  the  self-same  routes,  is  bringing  about  by 
degrees    the    discovery   of   the   monuments    of   this    long- 
perished  past.     No  sooner  was  France  mistress  of  Indo- 
China  than  she  began  her  work  by  an  admirable  campaign 
of    archaeological    discovery;    an    immense   harvest    of    in- 
scriptions collected  from  Cambodia  up  to  Tonkin  has  re- 
vived a  history  which  was  believed  to  be  utterly  wiped  out. 
Sanskrit  iiad  served   for  twelve  centuries   to   immortalize 
the  praises  of  the  sovereigns  of  Cambodia  and  Champa. 
The  Ecole  Frangaise  d'Extreme-Orient,   founded  in  1898, 
is  methodically  carrying  on  the  work  of  the  early  pioneers ; 
science  profits  by  the  fruitful  union  of  Sanskrit  and  Chinese, 
brilliantly   accomplished   by  this   school.      The   rivality   of 
England  and  Russia  in  Central  Asia  has  not  been  less  fruit- 


PROBLEMS  IN  SANSKRIT  STLUll-S        ^^3 

fill.  Since  1800  the  attention  of  Indianists  has  l)ccn  kept 
awake  by  a  continuous  series  of  discoveries.  Under  the 
sands  of  ^he  Takla  Makan  sleep  Pompeiis,  half  Hindu  in 
character.  Treasure-hunters,  according  to  the  chances  of 
their  adventurous  expeditions,  have  unearthed  fragments 
of  ancient  manuscripts  written  in  Sanskrit,  mingled  with 
fragments  in  an  unknown  language;  arithmetic,  medicine, 
sorcery,  astrology,  jostle  one  another  in  these  incongruous 
leaves.  A  French  mission  has  brought  from  Khotan  a  man- 
uscript of  the  Dhammapada  written  in  a  dialect  closely 
resembling  Sanskrit  and  dating,  without  doubt,  at  least 
fifteen  hundred  years  back.  Dr.  Stein's  mission  in  1000 
was  the  beginning  of  a  methodical  and  first-hand  explora- 
tion of  the  buried  ruins;  the  religious,  administrative  and 
artistic  history  of  Central  Asia  in  the  first  centuries  of  the 
Christian  Era  shines  forth  with  unexpected  clearness.  The 
patience  of  scholars  is  still  busied  with  these  documents, 
and,  behold,  new  discoveries  are  already  announced,  due 
to  the  Griinwedel  and  Huth  mission.  This  time  we  have 
to  do  not  with  fragments  of  manuscript,  but  a  text  printed 
on  w^ood  In  the  Tibetan  manner.  The  work  is  in  Sanskrit. 
Avith  a  marginal  title  in  Chinese,  and  belongs  to  the 
Buddhist  Scriptures.  What  splendid  discoveries  are  wc 
not  justified  in  hoping  for,  now,  if  the  convents  of  Central 
Asia  have  multiplied  copies  of  the  sacred  canon,  of  the 
Sanskrit  Tripitaka,  in  print! 

Thus,  a  century  after  its  birth,  Sanskrit  i)hilology  sees 
its  field  extend  to  the  limit;;  of  man's  horizon.  By  its 
origin,  by  its  grammar,  by  its  vocabulary,  by  its  earliest 
monuments,  Sanskrit  belongs  to  the  Aryan  group,  extend- 
ing from  the  mouths  of  the  Ganges  to  the  shores  of  the 
Atlantic.  By  Alexander's  expedition  and  the  creation  of 
new  kingdoms  to  the  northwest  of  India.  Indian  and 
Hellenic  destinies  were  Imked  together  for  three  or  four 


284  INDO-IRANIAN  LANGUAGES 

hundred  years.  By  the  expansion  of  Buddhism  India  dom- 
inated the  poHtics,  the  thought,  and  the  art  of  the  Fax- 
East.  The  childish  pride  of  the  Brahmans  had  thought 
to  exah  the  dignity  of  the  sacred  language  by  presuming 
to  confine  it,  like  a  secret  treasure,  within  the  impassable 
boundaries  of  India.  Science  has  once  more  broken  down 
superstitution  and  revealed  a  truth  grander  than  falsehood. 
No  more  than  any  other  nation  of  the  world  has  India 
created  or  developed  her  civilization  alone.  Our  civiliza- 
tions, by  whatever  particular  name  we  choose  to  call  them, 
are  the  collective  work  of  humanity.  Far  from  developing 
in  shy  isolation,  they  are  only  of  worth  when  they  borrow 
largely.  The  market  of  thought,  like  the  business  market, 
is  a  continual  movement  of  exchange.  On  whatever  point 
of  the  globe  we  may  live,  we  are  all  legitimate  heirs  of  all 
the  past  humanity;  the  richest  are  those  who  claim  most 
of  that  past.  Whether  applied  to  India  or  other  regions, 
historical  studies  have  grandeur  and  beauty  in  so  far  as 
they  increase  the  patrimony  of  man  ;  they  awake  in  the  in- 
dividual the  conscience  of  the  species;  they  reveal  to  us 
our  double  debt  towards  the  past  which  has  formed  us, 
towards  the  future  which  we  are  forming.  Thus  they  raise 
the  labors  of  scholarship  above  a  vain  dilettantism ;  by  them 
her  role  is  carried  even  into  practical  life,  unjustly  dis- 
dained, and  they  show  her  toiling  patiently  and  consciously 
for  harmony  and  progress. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIX 

BY    KDVVARD    ADOLF    SONNKNSCIIKIN 

■^Edward  Adolf  Soxxensciietx.  Professor  of  Latin  and  Crppk.  Uni- 
versity of  Birmingham,  England,  b.  Loudon.  I80L  .M.A.  Oxford. 
1878;  D.Litt.  1901;  M.A.  Birmingham,  19UL  Dean  of  the  Faculty 
of  Arts,  Birmingham,  1901;  Assistant  Professor  of  Humanity. 
University  of  Glasgow,  1877-81;  Professor  of  Greek  and  Latin. 
Mason  College,  Birmingham,  1883-90.  E.xaminer  Classics.  Uni- 
versity of  Wales,  University  of  Edinburgh.  1899-1902;  Examiner 
in  Greek  to  the  Central  Welsh  Board,  190.");  Hon.  Sec  of  the 
Classical  Association  of  England  and  Wales,  1904.  Editok  ok 
Plautus's  Captivi,  MosteUuria,  liudcns.  Aithoh  ok  Latin  and 
Greek  Orammurs  in  the  Parallel  Grammar  Series  (of  which  he  Is 
editor  in  chief);  Ideals  of  Culture;  Ora  Maritima;  I'rv  Patria. 
etc.] 

I  HAVE  decided  to  treat  the  subject  entrusted  to  ine  to- 
day not  from  the  purely  linguistic  point  of  view, — thougli 
this  would  have  supplied  me  with  a  fruitful  theme, — but 
rather  from  a  point  of  view  which  would,  I  suppose,  in 
Germany  be  called  "kulturhistorisch."  What  I  propose 
to  discuss  is  not  the  relation  of  Latin  to  other  languages  as 
languages,  but  rather  the  place  of  Latin  in  the  history  of 
civilization,  and  the  work  that  it  has  done  in  the  world 
as  a  vehicle  of  culture.  The  subject  thus  opened  up  is,  (^f 
course,  far  too  great  to  be  embraced  in  a  brief  paper;  nor 
do  I  pretend  to  be  able  to  deal  competently  with  all  its 
aspects:  but  it  is,  perhaps,  not  inappropriate  in  scope  and 
magnitude  to  the  present  occasion. 

The  history  of  the  Latin  language,  regarded  as  an  organ 
of  culture,  may  be  divided  into  three  great  periods:  (1) 
the  period  in  which  it  is  the  organ  of  a  culture  moulded 
mainly  by  Greece;  this  period  extends  from  long  l)efore 
the  third  century  b.  c.  to  the  latter  part  of  the  second 
century  a.  d.  :  (2)  the  period  in  which  Latin  becomes  the  or- 
gan of  the  Christian  Church,  from  the  end  of  the  second 

285 


286  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

century  to  the  end  of  the  fifth  century  a.  d.  :  (3)  the  period 
vaguely  spoken  of  as  the  "Middle  Ages,"  from  the  sixth 
to  the  end  of  the  thirteenth  century  of  our  era. 

It  was  a  favorite  idea  of  ancient  writers  to  represent 
the  course  of  history  as  a  succession  of  cycles,  each  of  which 
was  more  or  less  coincident  with  its  predecessor.  That 
history  repeats  itself, — even  that  the  atoms  of  which  the 
universe  is  composed  return  after  the  completion  of  some 
magmis  annus  into  the  precise  position  which  they  occu- 
pied at  its  commencement, — this  is  the  common  assump- 
tion of  ancient  philosophers  and  poet : 

Magnus  ab  integro  saeclorum  nascitur  ordo. 

If  we  compare  this  theory  with  modern  philosophies  of  his- 
tory, the  broad  distinction  is  that,  whereas  we  proceed  on  the 
postulate  or  working  hypothesis  that  the  world  is  progress- 
ive, the  belief  in  progress  was  in  ancient  times  conspicuous 
by  its  absence.  Development,  indeed,  they  knew;  but  only 
development  in  the  downward  direction, — degeneration, — 
and  that  only  within  the  limits  of  one  cycle.  Thus  at  bottom 
their  philosophy  of  history  was  static.  The  Eleatic  conception 
of  "Being"  as  against  "Becoming"  expresses  the  deeply 
rooted  conviction  of  antiquity.  If  Plato  had  been  sketch- 
ing the  history  of  modern  Europe  he  would  probably  have 
seen  in  the  period  which  followed  the  decline  and  fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire  the  commencement  of  a  new  cycle,  he 
would  have  compared  the  inroads  of  the  barbarians  to  the 
migrations  which  changed  the  face  of  Eastern  Europe  at 
the  commencement  of  the  Hellenic  period ;  and  he  would 
have  ended  by  predicting  a  decline  and  fall  of  the  civiliza- 
tion of  the  West,  including,  perhaps,  that  of  the  great 
Atlantis,  whose  existence  he  seems  to  have  divined  some 
nineteen  centuries  before  the  time  of  Columbus.  Yet  such 
a  conception  would  have  ignored  a  cardinal  frict  in  the  case. 
It  was  not  in  utter  nakedness  that  modern  Europe  entered 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIN  287 

on  her  career.  Aluch,  no  doubt,  of  the  spiritual  wealtli  of 
ancient  Hellas  had  been  lost,  many  a  "cloud  of  glc^ry"  had 
been  dispelled,  at  any  rate  for  a  time,  but  much  oi  it  lived 
on  in  other  forms,  reborn  in  the  institutions,  the  art,  and 
the  philosophy  of  Rome.  Thus  it  comes  about  that  so 
large  a  part  of  our  spiritual  inheritance  is  Greek.  The 
Renaissance  of  Greek  studies  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
centuries  would  not  have  been  able  to  galvanize  into  life 
a  culture  that  was  utterly  dead;  it  was  because  part  of  that 
culture  was  alive,  albeit  in  Roman  forms,  that  its  second 
rebirth  was  possible.  And  even  for  this  secoiul  rebirth 
we  are  indebted  principally  to  the  genius  of  Rome  working 
in  Italians  like  Petrarch,  Politian,  and  Poggio.  When 
we  think  of  these  things,  how  to  the  same  Rome  which  one 
of  her  poets  of  imperialism  apostrophized  in  the  words, — 

Fecisti  patriam  diversis  gentibus  unam, — 

we  owe  also  our  connection  at  two  points  with  the  intel- 
lectual conquests  of  Greece,  we  may  well  pause  before  we 
accept  as  final  the  verdict  which  one  of  the  greatest  of 
living  scholars  has  summed  up  in  the  ungrateful  phrase 
"das  seelenmordende  Rom." 

Standing  some  years  ago  in  Norwich  Cathedral,  I  had 
the  greatness  of  Rome  brought  forcibly  home  to  my  mind. 
In  the  aisles  there  stretched  out  a  series  of  groined  vaults 
which  carried  one  straight  back  to  the  Colosseum:  and  at 
the  extreme  east  end,  behind  the  altar,  rose  two  stately 
Early  English  arches,  once  the  entrance  to  a  Lady  Chapel 
of  the  thirteenth  century,  but  now  standing  isolated;  for 
the  Lady  Chapel  itself  was  destroyed  in  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. The  groined  vaults  are  Romanesque,  but  the  Early 
English  arches  are  also  Roman,  only  one  degree  further 
removed.  Let  two  Roman  barrel  vaults  or  two  Ro- 
manesque arches  intersect,  and  you  get  the  arch  misnamed 


288  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

Gothic.  A  clear  line  of  structural  descent  connects  the  one 
with  the  otiier,  atul  the  genius  of  Rome  may  claim  them 
both  as  her  own. 

The  relations  of  Rome  \n  the  Crock  and  to  the  modern 
world  may  be  also  illusti-atcd  by  the  history  of  verse.  From 
C"ireeco  Rome  borrowed  the  system  of  strictly  quantitative 
meter,  and  discarded  in  favor  of  it  the  native  Saturnian. 
But  j^i^radually  she  adapted  it  to  the  conditions  of  the  Latin 
lauguat^e  by  j^raftinq-  upon  it  the  Italian  principle  of  ac- 
cent/ the  beoinnins^  of  certain  feet  beinj;-  marked  by  the 
use  of  an  accented  syllable,  just  as  in  architecture  she  in- 
trixlnced  the  feature  of  the  arch.  The  effect  is  prominent 
in  the  verse  of  the  poctae  novclli  of  the  second  century 
A.  1).;  but  it  is  also  visible  to  some  extent  in  much  earlier 
forms  of  Latin  verse.  To  quote  only  one  example,  the 
second  half  of  the  dactylic  pentameter  of  Ovid  is  subject 
to  the  law  that  it  must  be  as  accentual  as  possible,  provided 
always  that  it  does  not  end  with  a  monosyllable.  This 
sounds  like  a  paradox;  but  I  believe  I  could,  if  not  give  it 
proof,  at  any  rate  make  it  jilausible.  The  dissyllabic  end- 
ing is  simply  a  necessary  sacrifice  to  secure  coincidence  of 
"ictus,"  as  it  is  called,  with  accent  in  the  other  places. 
Well,  in  the  course  of  time  this  accentual  feature  trans- 
formed the  whole  character  of  Latin  verse,  yet  without  in- 
volving a  return  to  the  Saturnian.  And  just  as  the  pointed 
Gothic  arch  developed  out  of  the  Romanesque,  so  the  ac- 
centual principle  received  such  further  development  in  the 
modern  Teutonic  \erse  based  upon  Latin  models — accent 
being  of  course  also  a  Teutom'c  principle — as  to  throw  the 
quantitative  principle  completely  in  the  shade;  so  that  we 
now  employ  a  kind  of  verse  which  seems  at  first  sight  com- 
parable to  Greek  verse  only  by  way  of  contrast.     But  only 


'  The  differentia  of  T^atln  verse  as  compared  with  Greek  ia  that  it  is  both 
quantitative  or  seiui-quantltatlve  in  some  cases,  axd  at  certain  points  ac- 
centual ;  nor  do  I  accept  any  purely  accentual  theory  of  the  Saturnian. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIN  ogo 

at  first  sight.  This,  too.  I  have  no  time  to  discuss  fully 
to-day;  but  I  will  merely  say  that  in  my  opinion  the  main 
difference  between  English  and  Lalini/.cd  Greek  verse  is 
that  English  is  not  based  upon  any  system  of  prosody,— 
that  is,  that  the  (juantities  of  syllables  in  English  verse  are 
not  predetermined,  as  they  are  in  Latin,  by  rules  repre- 
senting more  or  less  accurately  the  prose  pronunciation. 
The  English  poet  in  building  his  rime  employs  expansible 
and  contractible  bricks. 

Our  debt  to  Greece  was  finely  acknowledged  by  Shelley, 
in  his  preface  to  Hellas, — a  poem  inspired  by  sympathy 
with  the  cause  of  Greek  independence.  "We  are  all  Greeks. 
Our  laws,  our  literature,  our  religion,  our  arts  have  all 
their  root  in  Greece."  The  truth  which  lies  in  this  state- 
ment, accompanied  by  some  exaggeration,  is  becoming 
clearer  to  us  every  day,  in  proportion  as  the  achievements 
of  ancient  Hellas  in  the  fields  of  letters,  or  art,  of  science — 
aye,  even  of  religious  thought  and  political  organization — 
become  better  known  to  us  and  more  justly  appreciated. 
Yet  it  would  probably  by  truer  to  say  that  we  are  all 
Romans.  For  in  the  first  place  the  Greek  influence  upon 
the  modern  world  is  mainly  indirect,  coming  to  us  through 
Rome;  and  secondly,  there  are  elements  in  our  culture 
which  are  not  Greek  at  all ;  other  influences  have  been  at 
work — these,  too,  mediated  by  Rome  and  the  Latin  lan- 
guage. As  to  the  former  point,  no  truer  word  can  be 
spoken  than  the  oft-repeated  statement  that  just  as  con- 
quered Greece  led  her  conqueror  captive,  so  conquered 
Rome  imposed  on  the  Teutonic  barbarians  not  only  her 
laws  but  also  her  culture  and  her  civilization  as  a  whole. 

This  second  mission  of  Rome,  which  began  with  and 
before  the  fall  of  the  Western  Empire,  was  continued  down 
to  the  Renaissance;  and  that  Italy  and  the  Eternal  City 
might  continue  to  hold  the  position  of  instructors  of  the 


290  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

nations   was  the  prayer  of   Marco  Vida   in  the   sixteenth 
century : 

Artibus  emineat  semper  studiisque  Minervae 
Italia,  et  gentes  doceat  pulcherrima  Roma 
Quandoquidem  armorum  penitus  fortuna  recessit.i 

As  to  my  second  point,  the  existence  of  non-Greek  ele- 
ments in  our  civihzation,  that  is  a  matter  for  which  neither 
Vida  nor  Shelly  could  be  expected  to  have  an  open  eye. 
But  the  fact  that  not  only  Greece,  but  also  Judea,  and  at 
later  date  Arabia,  stood  at  the  back  of  Rome,  and  that  the 
triumph  of  Latin  civilization  was  a  triumph  for  these  also, 
is  written  large  in  history. 

Rome  was,  in  fact,  the  heir  of  at  least  two  civilizations; 
her  culture  was  the  common  stream  into  which  had  flowed 
the  two  rills  of  a  universalized  Hellenism  and  Hellenized 
Judaism.  But  Latin  was  the  medium  of  communication ; 
so  that  we  may  fairly  describe  the  complex  unity  of  modern 
civilization  as  mainly  a  Latin  unity.  There  have  also  been 
direct  influences  of  Greece  upon  the  modern  world,  notably 
at  the  time  of  the  Humanistic  Renaissance  of  the  fourteenth 
and  fifteenth  centuries,  and  during  the  last  hundred  years ; 
but  these  have  never  overthrown,  though  they  have  modi- 
fied, the  structure  which  was  erected  on  a  Latin  foundation. 
Just  as  the  political  institutions  and  the  law  of  Rome  form 
a  large  part  of  the  structure  of  every  modern  state,  Roman 
roads  playing  the  part  of  modern  railways  in  opening  up 
new  avenues  for  civilization,  so  Roman  thought  is  the 
predominating  partner  in  the  intellectual  life  of  to-day. 

The  first  period  in  the  history  of  the  Latin  language,  so 
regarded,  is  the  period  of  Greek  influence;  and  its  most 
important   subdivision   falls   in    the   middle   of  the   second 
century  b.  c,  the  time  when  Greeks  like  Polybius     First 
and  Panaetius  introduced  to  the  "Scipionic  circle"    Period 

1  Marco  Vida   (1489-1566),  Poetica.  u,  11.  63-65. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIX  291 

at  Rome  an  intenser  form  of  Greek  culture  than  had  been 
known  there  before.  From  this  time  onwards  for  over 
three  hundred  years  a  new  intluence  dominates  Latin  hter- 
ature, — the  influence  of  Greek  pliilosophy  and  especially  of 
Stoicism.  Of  all  the  gifts  of  Greece  to  Rome,  none  was 
fraught  with  such  far-reaching  consequences  as  the  philo- 
sophy of  the  Stoa.  The  fact  that  it  caught  the  ear 
of  Rome  as  no  other  system  of  philosophy  e\er 
did,  that  it  exercised  a  profound  influence  on  life  ami 
thought  from  the  middle  of  the  second  century  u.  c.  till 
the  end  of  the  second  century  a.  d.,  that  it  transformed  the 
whole  system  of  Roman  jurisprudence  through  the  idea 
of  the  Rights  of  Man  (the  Jus  Naturcr),  that  it  became 
nothing  less  than  the  religion  of  the  educated  classes  under 
the  early  Empire, — all  this  is  unmistakable  testimony  to 
two  facts:  (1)  that  there  was  no  absolute  breach  of  con- 
tinuity between  the  Greek  and  the  modern  world;  and  (2) 
that  Stoicism  was  really  congenial  to  the  Roman  tempera- 
ment. 

But  what  was  Stoicism?  Not  purely  Greek,  it  would 
seem :  every  one  of  its  men  of  note — Such  as  Zeno. 
Cleanthes,  Chrysippus,  Aratus,  and  at  a  later  date  Diogenes 
of  Babylon,  Antipater,  Pan?etius,  Poseidonius,  Atheno- 
dorus  (Canaanites) — hailed  from  the  East,  and  some  of 
them  were  of  Semitic  blood :  the  period  at  which  it  sprang 
into  existence  w^as  that  of  the  decay  of  the  Greek  city- 
states;  the  atmosphere  it  breathed  was  that  of  the  Greater 
Greece  opened  up  by  the  conquests  of  Alexander:  the  ideals 
it  expressed  were  those  of  an  epoch  of  expansion, — ideals 
of  cosmopolitanism  (the  very  word  has  a  Stoic  ring).' 
of  the  brotherhood  of  man.  of  philosophic  liberalism  and 
imperialism.    Its  monism  and  monotheism  stood  in  marked 

lit  seems  to  have  nome  to  the  Stoics  from  the  Cynic  Diogenes:  bis  answer 
((too-MOTToAiVr)?)  to  the  question  ttoSottos  el,  is  quoted  by  Diogenes  Laertlua,  vi,  63. 


292  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

contrast  to  the  dualistic  tendencies  of  Greek  philosophy 
since  Anaxagoras.  Altogether,  though  much  be  explained 
as  development  on  purely  Greek  lines,  yet  the  probability, 
both  external  and  internal,  of  an  Oriental  and  indeed  a 
Semitic  strain  in  Stoicism  seems  too  strong  to  be  resisted. 
Greece,  in  fact,  had  grozini  into  Stoicism — but  not  without 
contact  with  Oriental  thought.  How  deep  the  world's 
debt  to  the  East  is  will  probably  ne^'er  be  fully  known. 

Stoicism  appealed  strongly  to  the  Roman  character — 
to  its  dignity,  its  piety,  its  commercial  integrity,  its 
dictTc8aciiu',ia.  ^  I  am  speaking,  of  course,  of  the  Roman 
character  at  its  best.  It  is  worth  remark  that  the  only  de- 
partment of  Latin  literature,  except  the  literature  of  Law, 
which  was  dintinctly  a  Roman  creation  was  a  special  kind 
of  didactic  literature,  precisely  the  sphere  in  which  these 
Stoical  qualities  had  a  field  for  their  exercise,  though  it 
goes  by  the  name  of  Satire.  If  we  had  adhered  to  the  name 
chosen  by  Lucilius  and  Horace,  it  might,  perhaps,  have 
suggested  to  us  as  an  English  equivalent  the  word  "Ser- 
mons." What  are  the  Sermones  of  Horace  but  lay  ser- 
mons, not  without  a  spice  of  humor?  And  though  he  is 
fond  of  drawing  caricatures  of  the  Stoics,  caricatures 
which  we  are  too  ready  to  take  an  grand  serieux,  he  was 
himself  a  bit  of  a  Stoic  at  heart,  at  any  rate  when  in  a 
moral  mood.  So  were  most  of  the  great  Roman  writers. 
Virgil  seems  to  have  given  up  his  early  Epicureanism  in 
favor  of  a  religious  view  of  things  in  which  Stoicism  and 
Platonism  were  blended,  if  not  indeed  one:  the  doctrine 
of  the  world-soul  as  expressed  in  the  fourth  Georgic  (219- 
227)  is,  I  think.  Stoic  rather  than  Platonic;  the  famous 
passage  in  the  sixth  /Eneid  (724-751),  with  its  doctrine 
of  rewards  and  punishments  in  the  future  state,  is  per- 
haps Platonic  rather  than  Stoic;  for  the  Stoics  believed  in 

1  Polybius,  VI,  56,  10. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIN  203 

absorption  in  the  r.vzoiia  too  xonimo  {sf^iritus,  or  auima, 
mundi),  rather  than  any  form  of  personal  ininK^rtaUty.' 
The  coryphaei  of  the  Scipionic  circle  were,  as  I  have  said. 
all  Stoics — Lncilius,"  Lselius  Furiiis  T^hihis,  Scsevola,  and 
the  rest ;  so  too,  perhaps,  even  Cato  the  Censor,  in  his  old 
age.     Terence  talks  Stoicism  in  the  line : 

Homo  sum:  humani  nil  a  me  alienum  puto  (Hcaut.  11). 

Varro  was  half  a  Stoic;  Cicero  a  good  deal  more  than 
half.  Even  Sallust  preaches  Stoicism  when  he  wishes  to 
be  impressive.  Under  the  Empire  we  find  Stoicism  pro- 
fessed in  Seneca  and  in  Persius,  as  w^ell  as  in  the  Emperor 
Marcus  Aurelius  and  the  Phrygian  slave  Epictetus.  It 
commanded  the  respect  of  Liican  and  Jinenal,  whose  later 
Satires  are  practically  Stoic  tracts,^  and  it  would  have 
made  a  convert  of  Tacitus,  had  he  not  had  other  axes  to 
grind.  The  younger  Pliny  too  shows  Stoic  leanings.  Nor 
was  its  influence  confined  to  letters :  it  showed  itself  under 
the  Republic  in  the  humanistic  and  socialistic  radicalism 
of  the  Gracchi — pupils  of  C.  Blossius — and  in  the  assas- 
sination of  Julius  Caesar;  and  under  the  early  Empire  in 
the  political  martyrdoms  of  men  like  Musonius  Rufus. 
Rubellius  Plautus,  Thrasea  Paetus,  and  many  others,  who 
formed  the  "Stoic  opposition." 

This  vogue  of  Stoicism  goes,  indeed,  so  far  as  to  sug- 
gest a  doubt  as  to  whether  the  Stoicism  of  Rome  was  ik^i 
merely  an  expression  of  the  Roman  character  itself.  And 
no  doubt  the  Romans  w^ere  Stoics  by  nature  as  well  by 

1  The  virtues  that  Virgil  admired  most  were  fo';tit"<le_  <P«'''"'^>  »°"'„i\!*''L*; 
See  the  passage  in  Donatus's  Lifr.  ch.  18.  quoted  by  Sellar.  p.  123.  and  by 
Wicliham,  Introduction  to  Horace,  Ode  i,  21   (p.  73). 

2  In  my  opinion  Lucilius  was  a  Stoio  ;  cf.  esperlally  the  faement  'iboji^  rirfHs 
(=.wisdom),  preserved  by  Lactantius.  The  word  i«r,',,.s  a''l">'-^<l,»  »;'''"'';», 
philosophical  sense  in  Latin,  equivalent  tx)  the  Stoio  opflo,  ^"vo..  '^-  CI';.  Tum- 
IV,  15,  34  (=recta  ratio),  Dc  Leg.  i,  8,  25.  De  t  >n.  ..i,  4.  1- .  Hor.  O./.  ii.  -. 
18.  Ill,  2,  17  ;  Sat.  ii,  1,  70,  72  ;  Epist.  i,  1.  17. 

3  1  have  not  forgotten  the  passage  (13.  121)  '°  ^hich  the  Stole  Is  spoken  o^ 
as  differing  from  the  Cynic  only  in  his  fufiic.  The  Stoirs  and  the  Cynks  were 
really  akin. 


294  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

nurture.  Yet  Stoicism  must  have  lielped  to  develop  those 
elements  in  the  Roman  character  to  which  it  appealed  so 
strongly.  The  old  Roman  z-irtus  (manliness)  came  to  have 
a  wider  sense  (wisdom).  Xor  is  it  easy  to  say  how  much 
of  the  later  form  which  Stoicism  assumed  in  the  hands  of 
men  of  affairs  like  Cicero,  Seneca,  and  Marcus  Aurelius 
is  due  to  contact  with  the  Roman  genius  for  simplification 
and  adaptation  and  practical  life,  and  how  much  to  later 
developments  of  Stoicism  itself,  as  taught  by  men  like 
PanjEtius  and  Poseidonius.  One  thing  is  certain, — that 
neo-Stoicism,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  put  off  something  of  its 
arrogance,  its  dogmatism,  its  pedantry,  and  its  paradoxes, 
and  became  a  more  human  thing  than  early  Stoicism  had 
been.  And  this  gain  more  than  compensated  for  the  losses 
which  it  suffered  on  the  purely  speculative  side.  Neo- 
Stoicism  as  developed  at  Rome  became  a  power  in  the 
world. 

There  is  probably  no  school  of  philosophy  which  has 
been  so  hardly  judged  as  Stoicism.  Its  influence  upon  the 
world  has  been  incalculable.  The  main  differentiae  of 
modern  society,  as  compared  with  ancient,  are,  I  suppose, 
broadly  speaking,  three:  the  passage  from  the  city-state 
to  the  empire-state,  the  abolition  of  slavery,  and  the  crea- 
tion of  the  church  as  distinct  from  the  state.  All  these 
were  voiced,  or  at  least  anticipated  in  principle,  by  Stoicism. 
As  to  the  third  point.  Stoicism,  like  some  other  Greek 
schools  of  philosophy,  linked  men  together  in  a  unity  w^hich 
was  independent  of  the  state  and  in  which  therefore  lay 
the  germs  of  a  church. 

Again  the  Stoic  theology  led  to  an  attitude  towards 
nature  w^hich  was  a  new  thing  in  literature,  a  sense  of  the 
mvstery  of  nature,  as  the  dwelling-place  and  vesture  of 
deity,  the  templum  deorum  immortalium  (Seneca,  De 
Benef.  vu,  7,  3).     It  was  something  like  the  old  Greek 


THE  RELATIONS  OI<   LATIN 


!<:. 


nature-worsliip  minus  its  polytheism.  To  ilu-  loim.ition 
of  our  modern  attitude  towards  nature  no  doubt  other 
elements  have  contributed,  notably  the  Celtic,  as  Matthew 
Arnold  held.     But  Stoicism  was  the  be^innin^'  of  it. 

The  world  at  large  is  little  conscious  of  the  debt  which 
it  owes  to  Stoicism  as  a  religious  philosophy.  The  high 
seriousness  and  lofty  morality  taught  by  this  school  the 
world  has  passed  by  with  a  shrug  of  indifference:  its  chari- 
ties, extended  to  slaves  and  even  to  the  lower  animals, — 

oira   ^d)£i  re  xai  tpret  Svrjr  'cri  yatav,^ 

have  been  put  down  to  "rhetoric"  or  inconsistency;  and 
men  have  been  contented  merely  to  "shiver  at  its  apathy." 
But  its  apathy  was,  after  all,  only  meant  as  a  protest  against 
emotion  in  the  wrong  place.  The  Stoics  objected  to  bas- 
ing mercy  {dementia)  upon  mere  emotion  {miscricordia). 
May  not  the  reason  for  this  indifference  of  the  world  at 
large  towards  a  noble  school  of  thought  be  found  partly 
in  the  fact  that  Stoicism  stands  too  near  to  ourselves  to  be 
seen  clearly?  It  is  said  that  if  you  show  a  man  his  own 
likeness  in  a  mirror  he  will  sometimes  turn  from  it  in  dis- 
gust. Stoicism  is  essentially  a  philosophy  not  of  desi)air, 
but  of  confidence  and  almost  defiant  optimism.  Many  of 
the  fundamental  ethical  ])rinciples  which  are  generally  re- 
garded as  specifically  Christian  had  been  developed  inde- 
pendently by  the  Porch.  The  idea  of  the  fatherhood  of 
God  and  its  corollaries,  the  brotherhood  of  man  and  the 
law  of  love,  in  a  word,  tb.c  wliole  idea  of  basing  morality 
directly  upon  a  religious  theory  of  the  universe,  is  Stoic. 

The  striking  phrase,  r«0  yap  xai  yhni;  Uidv.  quoted  by  St. 
Paul,  and  the  use  of  the  word  vazr^p  in  addressing  the 
Deity  are  common  to  the  Hymn  of  Cleanthes  and  the  pro- 
logue to  the  ^atvofieva  of  Aratus. 


1  Hymn  of  Cleanthes,  third  century  b.  c. 


296  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

And  this  is  a  new  note  in  literature;  there  is  nothing 
quite  like  it  in  Plato  or  Aristotle,  though  Greek  literature 
of  the  classical  age  has  some  analogies/ 

In  view  of  these  facts  it  is  no  matter  of  surprise  that 
Stoicism  has  contributed  to  Christianity  some  of  its  cardi- 
nal terms:  xveD/ia  (spintus),  au-^ei8r,aig  (conscicntia), 
aurdpxeca  (siifficientia) ,  in  their  special  religious  senses,  have 
come  to  us  through  the  Stoics,  Even  Xdyo^  is  ultimately- 
due  to  them. 

The  phrase  noXtTeta  rod  xoff/iov  civitas  communis  homi- 
num  et  dsorum,  "city  of  God,"  is  only  one  of  many  links 
that  connect  the  early  Greek  Stoics  with  Cicero  and  Alarcus 
Aurelius,  and  Marcus  Aurelius  with  St.  Augustine.  Nor 
did  some  of  the  chief  of  the  early  fathers  of  the  church, 
notably  St.  Augustine,  fail  to  recognize  the  affinities  of 
Christianity  to  earlier  religious  systems.  Seneca  saepc 
noster,  says  Tertullian,  Seneca  noster,  says  Jerome:  and 
the  recognition  went  so  far  as  to  lead  some  zealot  to  man- 
ufacture a  correspondence  between  Seneca  and  St.  Paul, 
which  was  intended  to  account  for  their  resemblance.  Some 
passages  in  Seneca  are  indeed  startling  enough  to  awaken 
a  suspicion  of  some  contact.  He  several  times  speaks  of 
God  as  parens  noster,  and  as  "within  us"  (prope  est  a  te 
deus,  tecum  est,  intus  est)  ;  he  calls  him  sacer  spirit  us 
{Sacer  infra  nos  spirifus  scdct — the  same  idea  as  I  Corin- 
thians III,  16,  and  vi,  19,  "your  body  is  the  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  in  you").  Whether  Seneca  may  not  have  come 
into  contact  with  some  refined  form  of  Judaism  at  Rome, 
it  is  indeed  hard  to  say.  Yet  these  terms  are  Stoical  prop- 
erty: the  "God  within"  of  Seneca  is  the  same  as  the  domi- 
nans  ille  in  nobis  dens  of  Cicero,  and  the  divinac  particula 
aurae  of  Horace.     And  if  Seneca  has  some  striking  parallels 

1  Plato  speaks  of  God  as  narnp  In  the  Timaeus,  but  rather  in  the  sense  of 
the  creator — the  {ij/niovpyo? — than  as  standing  in  an  intimate  relation  to  the 
Foul  of  man. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIX  2J»7 

to  the  ethical  teaching  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  these 
are  only  deductions  from  that  fundamental  ethical  princi- 
ple of  Stoicism  by  which  it  is  linked  not  less  with  Aristotle 
than  with  Christianity:  Iwiuiiiciii  socialc  cuiimal,  com- 
miini  bono  genitum}  "Nur  allein  der  Mensch  vermag  duN 
Unmogliciic."  The  Stoics  had  seized  the  grand  concep- 
tion that  Reason,  man's  prerogative,  is  an  emanation  from, 
or  part  of,  the  Deity.  I  know  of  no  better  general  exposi- 
tion of  this  doctrine  of  the  "Indwelling  Supreme  Spirit" 
than  Emerson's  Divinity  School  Address  of  1838. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  the  second  period  in  the  history  of 
the  Latin  language,  the  period  in  which  Latin  becomes  the 
organ  of  the  Christian  Church.  In  this  period,  Second 
which  extends  from  the  latter  part  of  the  second  Period 
century  to  the  latter  part  of  the  fifth  century  a.  d.,  from 
Marcus  Aurelius  to  the  fall  of  the  Western  Emi)ire.  Chris- 
tianity was  taking  shape:  and  it  brings  us  to  the  second 
great  element  out  of  which  the  composite  unity  of  Latin 
civilization  was  developed.  The  official  conversion  of  the 
Roman  Empire  to  Christianity  in  the  fourth  century  has 
been  called  "the  miracle  of  history.'"  but  there  is  no  need 
to  appeal  to  miracles  in  this  case.  The  Gr?eco-Roman 
world  w^as  prepared  for  the  reception  of  Christianity 
through  that  shifting  of  the  ancient  landmarks  which  finds 
expression  in  Stoicism.  And  there  is  als<i  another  order 
of  facts  to  which  I  have  now  to  allude,  avoiding  as  far  as 
possible  controversial  matter.  For  if  Stoicism  was  a  com- 
posite thing,  Christianity,  as  it  entered  the  stream  of  Roman 
history,  was  not  a  simple  one. 

lam  priflem  Syrus  in  Tiberira  drfluxit  Orontes. 
says  Juvenal   (3,   C^2^    in  his  indiscriminate  manner.      But 
before  the  Orontes  flowed  into  ihe  Tiber  it  had  admitted 


1  Seneca,  De  Clem,  i,  3,  2. 

2  Freeman, 


298  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

a  Greek  tributary.  Of  the  social  and  intellectual  life  of 
Syria  proper  during  the  centuries  that  followed  Alexander's 
conquest,  we  know,  alas,  too  little.  What  would  we  not 
give  to  be  present  in  one  of  those  old  lecture-rooms  of 
Tarsus  or  Soli  or  some  other  centre  of  Stoic  teaching! 
But  of  the  Hellenization  of  Palestine  we  know  more :  how 
from  Alexandria,  as  a  centre  of  influence,  the  process  went 
on  quietly  during  the  third  century  b.  c.  until  the  violent 
attempt  of  Antiochus — 'Eru$avrj<i  or  ' ETU!iavyj<s — to  force  the 
gods  of  Greece  upon  Judaea,  and  his  insults  to  the  Temple 
and  the  Torah,  led  to  a  violent  reaction,  and  Judaism  as- 
serted itself  again  under  the  Maccabees.  But  not  till  Hel- 
lenism had  left  a  deep  mark  upon  Jewish  thought  and  Jew- 
ish literature.  All  this  is  fully  recognized  by  Jewish  as 
well  as  by  Christian  historians.  The  Greek  cities  to  the 
east  of  the  Jordan,  alluded  to  by  Josephus,  cannot  have 
been  without  their  influence.  But  even  if  Hellenism  was 
at  a  low  ebb  in  Palestine  between  Antiochus  and  the  birth 
of  Christ,  the  labors  of  the  learned  in  the  flourishing  Jew- 
ish colony  at  Alexandria,  though  directed  primarily  to 
spreading  a  knowledge  of  the  Jewish  scriptures  among  the 
heathen  and  reconciling  the  teachings  of  the  Law  with 
Greek  philosophy,  were  not  without  their  reaction  on  Juda- 
ism itself.  A  knowledge  of  this  Hellenized  and  humanized 
Judaism  must  have  been  spread  over  the  world  by  the  dis- 
persions and  settlements  of  the  Jews  which  followed  the 
overthrow  of  Jewish  independence  by  Pompey  in  b.  c. 
63.  At  Rome  the  Jews  formed  a  regular  colony  on  the 
west  of  the  Tiber,  and  we  hear  of  them  in  Cicero  and 
Horace. 

The  converging  streams  of  thought  from  Greece  and 
from  Judrea  were  bound  to  meet;  and  the  phraseology  of 
St.  Paul  can  hardly  be  explained  except  on  the  supposition 
that  Christianity  and  Hellenism  had  already  met  in  him. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIN 


299 


But  at  Rome  the  effective  union  came  later.  The  old  re- 
ligion maintained  its  ^round  for  centuries,  side  by  side 
with  the  new;  and  wlien  Christianity  triumphed  it  tri- 
umphed rather  by  taking  its  rival  up  into  itself  than  by 
destroying  it.  Thus  if  Stoicism  prepared  the  way  for 
Christianity,  Christianity  made  Stoicism  for  the  first  time 
a  force  capable  of  appealing  to  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men.  The  earliest  extant  product  in  the  Latin  language 
of  this  fusion  of  elements  is  the  Octavius  of  Minucius 
Felix,  in  which  Christianity  and  Stoicism  are  so  blended 
that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  say  whether  the  argument 
adduced  is  Christian  or  Stoic.  Its  date  is  not  certain ; 
but  its  latest  editor.  Waltzing,  places  it  at  the  end  of  the 
second  century.  The  latter  part  of  that  century  had  wit- 
nessed the  production  of  the  first  Latin  translation  of  the 
Bible, — the  Itala, — and  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century 
saw  the  completion  of  Jerome's  Vulgate.  Boethus,  "the 
last  of  the  Romans  whom  Cato  or  Tully  would  have  recog- 
nized for  their  countryman,"  as  Gibbon  calls  him,  closes 
our  second  period, — a  period,  no  doubt,  of  decadence  in 
literature,  as  literature;  but  a  period  of  full  vitality  and 
efficiency  in  the  history  of  the  Latin  language.  By  the 
close  of  the  fifth  century  Latin  Christianity  had  taken 
definite  shape,  a  body  of  doctrine  formulated  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  Roman  law  and  a  church  organized  on  the  lines 
of  Roman  administration. 

Is  it  not  the  history  of  architecture  and  of  verse  over 
again,  even  though  we  are  not  able  to  point  to  any  feature 
quite  so  definitely  Roman  as  the  arch  in  architecture  or 
the  accentual  principle  in  verse?  The  products  of  Greater 
Greece  and  of  Judaea  were  not  merely  adoi)tcd  and  trans- 
mitted by  Rome;  she  made  them  her  own;  and  sent  them 
forth,  stamped  by  her  own  genius,  to  shape  the  relii^ious 
sentiment  of  the  modern  world.     It  was  not  the  intention 


300  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

of  this  paper  to  vindicate  the  originaHty  of  the  Romans, 
but  it  seems  to  vindicate  itself. 

Historians  of  Latin  hterature  generally  put  up  a  notice- 
board  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  century  to  the  effect  that  the 
"Dark  Ages"  have  commenced,  or  warning  us  Third 
that  to  the  age  of  gold,  silver,  and  the  baser  Period 
metals  has  succeeded  an  age  for  which  no  metal  is  base 
enough.  But  the  reign  of  the  Latin  language  was  far  from 
coming  to  an  end  with  Boethius.  Nor  can  the  attempt  to 
set  up  an  entity  called  Modern  History,  as  distinct  from 
Ancient  History,  be  congratulated  on  its  success.  His- 
torians are  so  little  agreed  as  to  where  it  begins  that  their 
dates  range  from  the  first  inroad  of  the  barbarians  to  the 
seventeenth  or  even  the  eighteenth  century. 

There  was  no  real  breach  of  continuity;  and  the  Latin 
language  of  the  eight  centuries  that  lie  between  Boethius 
and  Roger  Bacon,  whether  it  be  called  "Dog  Latin"  or 
"Lion  Latin,"  remained  a  language  which  was  both  living 
and  national,  the  organ  of  that  greater  Roman  nation  or 
Christian  commonwealth  which  included  the  Teutons  and 
which  about  the  middle  of  this  period  assumed  a  new  form 
in  the  Holy  Roman  Empire.  The  idea  that  nationality 
depends  on  unity  of  race  does  not  appeal  to  a  Briton,  and 
must  seem  still  more  eccentric  to  an  American.  The  proper 
name  for  the  Latin  language  from  the  sixth  to  the  end  of 
the  thirteenth  century  is  not  lingua  Latina,  but  lingua 
Romana.  In  this  capacity  it  achieves  an  even  greater  uni- 
versality than  it  enjoyed  before.  And  it  is  fully  alive, 
though  there  spring  up  side  by  side  with  it  a  number  of 
daughter  languages  which  are  completely  developed  be- 
fore the  close  of  this  period.  Moreover,  this  Latin,  if  gram- 
matically decadent,  is  capable  of  serving  its  age  well  as  an 
instrument  of  thought.  The  rule  of  Augustine,  "Melius 
est    reprehendant    nos    grammatici    quam    non    intellegant 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  KATIX  :iOi 

popiili,"  expresses  the  very  sensible  jx-im  oi  \icu  a(i(.i)te<l 
by  his  successors  in  their  handhiig  ul  the  ///j^'mu 
Romana. 

During  the  first  three  centuries  of  this  long  period  the 
work  done  by  Latin  is  necessarily  liniitetl ;  for  all  in- 
tellectual life  had  perished  except  in  favored  i)laces  like 
Ireland,  and  among  exceptional  men  like  I'riscian.  Bedc. 
and  Alcuin.  The  relations  of  Latin  were  mainly  with  the 
monasteries;  and  to  these  centuries,  if  to  any.  may  be  filly 
applied  the  term  "The  Dark  Ages."  The  three  centuries 
that  follov  (a.  d.  800-1100)  are  a  period  of  transition  to 
a  brighter  period,  and  are  marked  by  a  reform  of  schools. 
But  Latin  is  still  mainly  confined  to  the  clergy,  though  the 
works  of  men  like  Scotus  Erigena  and  Eginhard  must  iMt 
be  forgotten.  It  is  not  till  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  cen- 
turies that  Latin  once  more  becomes  a  great  force  in  the 
world.  During  this  last  stage  of  its  existence  as  a  living 
language  it  puts  ofif  its  ecclesiastical  character  and  enters 
on  new  paths  as  an  organ  of  secular  life,  in  philosophy,  in 
law,  and  in  science,  especially  the  science  of  medicine.  It 
becomes  the  language  of  the  universities  which  were  then 
springing  into  existence,  and  finds  a  wide  field  of  activity 
open  to  it  in  the  service  of  that  movement  which  has  been 
rightly  called  the  Early  or  Scholastic  Renaissance,  as  dis- 
tinct from  that  greater  Humanistic  Renaissance  of  which 
Petrarch  was  the  "morning  star."  The  stimulus  to  all  this 
new  life  came  partly  from  the  Saracens.  Arabic  works 
on  philosophy,  mathematics,  astronomy,  medicine,  and 
other  branches  of  science  and  pseudo-science  were  trans- 
lated into  Latin,  and  Europe  was  thus  brought  for  a  third 
time  into  contact  with  Semitic  thought.  But  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  light  of  Arabia  was  in  large  measure 
a  light  borrowed  from  Greece  and  the  remoter  East :  con- 
spicuously so  in  the  case  of  the  Arabic  Aristotle,  which 


302  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

made  its  way  in  a  Latin  dress  from  Spain  into  Northern 
Europe  at  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century. 

After  the  fourteenth  century  Latin  is  no  longer  the  uni- 
versal language  of  Europe,  no  longer  a  national  language 
in  the  sense  in  which  the  term  has  been  used  above,  though 
it  continued  to  live  in  works  like  the  Imitatio  Christi  of 
Thomas  a  Kempis.  The  reason  is  that  it  was  no  longer 
alone  in  the  field.  And  the  Renaissance,  from  the  very  fact 
that  it  w^as  a  revival  of  purer  standards  of  taste  and  diction, 
necessarily  turned  its  back  upon  that  well  of  living  speech 
which  had  supplied  the  needs  of  the  preceding  centuries. 
But  what  killed  Latin  as  a  living  tongue  was  not  only 
purism  but  also  the  growth  of  its  rivals  in  literary  capacity. 
English  bad  blossomed  into  literature  as  early  as  the 
seventh  century  (C?edmon,  to  say  nothing  of  Bcozmilf). 
German  had  produced  a  truly  national  literature  in  the 
twelfth  and  thirteenth.  The  reign  of  Latin  thus  overlaps 
that  of  the  modern  tongues  as  an  organ  of  literature  and 
science;  and  as  their  influence  waxed,  hers  waned. 

But  I  have  yet  to  ask  your  attention  to  one  more  phase 
in  the  life  of  Latin.  For  if  Latin  died  as  a  universal  lan- 
guage when  the  new  literatures  were  born,  yet  it  died  only 
to  rise  again,  together  with  Greek,  in  a  new  form. 

For  the  revival  of  classical  literature  in  the  fourteenth 
and  fifteenth  centuries  turned  its  face  in  reality,  not  so 
much  to  the  past  as  to  the  future.  And  perhaps  the  most 
important  fact  in  the  history  of  modern  literatures  is  this, 
that  all  the  names  of  first  importance  are  post-Renaissance.^ 
Chaucer  had  caught  its  spirit ;  and  among  its  most  promi- 
nent representatives  are  to  be  numbered  a  Rabelais,  a  Cer- 
vantes, a  Shakespeare,  and  later  on  a  Goethe  and  a  Schiller. 
Herein,  I  take  it,  lies  the  ultimate  reason  w^hy  we  study 
the  Greek  and  Latin  classics  at  all ;  their  study  is  in  reality 

1  Dante  is  one  of  the  witnesses  to  the  dawn  which  preceded  the  day. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIN  :;(,;; 

a  study  of  our  own  past, — our  very  own, — divorced  from 
which  all  that  is  most  characteristic  in  the  present  is  only 
half-intelligible.  Were  it  not  for  this, — were  it  true  that 
the  world  would  be  exactly  what  it  is  if  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  had  never  existed,  as  the  late  Mr.  Herbert  Spenccr 
thought  and  said,' — then,  I  confess,  I  shoukl  feel  that  the 
classical  studies  could  be  justified  only  as  a  disciplinary 
study — and  for  the  light  that  Latin  throws  upon  the  vocab- 
ulary and  syntax  of  the  mother  tongue.  It  is  because  the 
precise  opposite  is  true,  because  modern  life  is  soaked  with 
Greek  and  still  more  with  Latin  inlluences.  that  it  will  al- 
ways depend  for  its  complete  interpretation  on  a  study  oi 
the  classics — that  is,  so  long  as  the  landmarks  of  our 
present  culture  remain  unshifted.  And  even  at  the  present 
day  the  Latin  language  is  to  the  Latinized  classes  what  it 
was  to  our  Teutonic  ancestors,  a  second  tongue,  to  which 
we  can  apply  in  a  more  real  sense  than  to  Greek  the  old 
saying  of  Cassiodorus :  "Dulcius  suscipitur  (juod  patrio 
sermone  narratur."^  Hence  it  is  that  we  like  to  speak  of 
Plato  rather  than  of  Platon,  and  that  the  Germans,  going 
one  step  further,  convert  Bacon  into  Baco.  It  is,  indeed, 
a  noteworthy  phenomenon  that  the  tongue  of  old  Latiuni 
should  have  conquered  for  itself  the  New  as  well  as  the 
Old  World,  and  should  find  now  in  America  a  land  which 
not  only  inaintains  Latin  as  an  integral  part  of  the  school 
curriculum,  but  has  also  given  to  the  Old  World  some  of 
its  most  scientific  grammars  and  dictionaries. 

Let  me  illustrate  the  influence  of  Latin  upon  English 
literature  by  one  fact  which  I  discovered  only  the  other 
day.  One  of  the  most  fainous  speeches  of  Shakespeare  is. 
I  think,  based  upon  what  would  seem  o  priori  a  very  un- 
likely source— the  treatise  of  Seneca  "On  Mercy,"  an  ap- 

'  See  his  Autobiography,  vol.  ii,  p.  237. 

2  Preface   to   his    De    Ortliographia,    quoted   by    Sandys,    History   of    Cln-t.itral 
Scholarship,  p.  254. 


304  LATIN  LANGUAGE 

peal  to  the  reigning  Emperor  Nero/  The  leading  ideas 
of  Portia's  speech  are  all  there;  it  is  only  the  inimitable 
form  of  expression  that  is  Shakespeare's, 

Nullum  dementia  ex  omnibus  magis  quam  legem  aut  princlpem 
decet  (i,  3,  3;  again  i,  19,  1). 

"It  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown." 

Eo  scillicet  formosius  id  esse  magnificentiusque  fatebimur  quo  in 
maiore  praestabitur  potestate  (i,  19,  1). 

"  'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest." 

Quod  si  di  placabiles  et  aequi  delicta  potentium  non  statim  fulmi- 
nibus  persequuntur,  quanto  aequius  est  hominem  hominibus  praepo- 
situm  miti  animo  exercere  imperium?  (i,  7,  2.) 

'But  mercy  is  above  this  sceptred  sway. 
It  is  enthroned  in  the  heart  of  kings; 
It  is  an  attribute  of  God  himself." 

Quid  autem?  Non  proximum  eis  (dis)  locum  tenet  is  qui  se  ex 
deorum  natura  gerit  beneficus  et  largus  et  in  melius  potens?  (i, 
19,  9.) 

"And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 
When  mercy  seasons  justice." 

Cogitato quanta  solitudo  et  vastitas  futura  sit  si  nihil 

relinquitur  nisi  quod  index  severus  absolverit   (i,  6,  1). 

"Consider  this 
That  in  the  course  of  justice  none  of  us 
Should  see  salvation." 

Compare  Hamlet,  ii,  2  :  "Use  every  man  after  his  desert, 
and  who  shall  'scape  whipping?" 

And  the  story  of  Augustus  pardonmg  Cinna  (i,  9)  pro- 
bably suggested : 

"It  is  twice  blessed; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives,  and  him  that  takes." 

Lodge's  translation  was  not  published  till  some  twenty 
years  after  the  Merchant  of  Venice.     But  that  is  no  diffi- 


1  Parallels  between  Seneca's  tragedies  and  Shakespeare  have  been  quoted  by 
J.  Churtou  Collins  in  his  recent  Studies  in  Shakespaare ;  but  I  am  not  aware 
that  any  one  has  hitherto  adduced  evidence  that  any  prose  work  of  Seneca  was 
known  to  Shakespeare.  In  the  light  of  the  De  dementia  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  the  passage  of  Titus  Andronicus  which  Mr.  Collins  regards  as  based 
on  Cicero  Pro  Liyario,  xii,  32,  may  also  come  from  Seneca. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  LATIX 


;ior> 


culty  to  those  who  believe  that  Shakespeare  had  not  for- 
gotten the  Latin  which  he  had  learnt  at  Stratford  Grainniar 
School.  And  Seneca  was  more  read  in  those  days  than  he 
is  now :  witness  the  enormous  influence  which  his  tragedies 
exercised  on  the  predecessors  of  Shakespeare.  I  venture- 
to  commend  the  study  of  Seneca's  prose  works  to  Shake- 
spearian scholars. 


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